A Long Road To Love
by Rac4hel414
Summary: Gabriella gets a job at a garage owned by a Mr Troy Bolton. Their first impressions aren't good. But as each relaxes and let other feelings take over, Gabriella's secrets of her past reappear, one by one.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Okay, so I didn't plan on uploading anything until this story was finished. But, who's got that kind of time? And I'm impatient so I wanted you to read it. Besides, in celebration of the wedding of the century and Osama being killed, I thought that was another reason to upload :P I've decided for the weekly updates to be on Mondays at approximately 5:30pm GMT time. That may vary. Especially after I've uploaded all of the chapters I've written atm. With exams coming up, things might change :\ If they do, I'll keep you posted.**

**I haven't really planned a summary of this story but I'll make one up right this second: Gabriella was always different. She was always smarter than her school friends. She wasn't a huge fan of shopping. And, believe it or not, she was a better mechanic than most of the male ones in her hometown of Scarborough. When she applies for a job at Bolton's Garage, there is already friction between her and the owner, Troy. As the friction, annoyance and reluctance between them both decrease, and other feelings take over, secrets from Gabriella's past are revealed one by one. You can't run from your past forever.**

**Anyway, enjoy this chapter. It isn't much. More of a prologue kind of thing.**

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><p><span>Chapter 1<span>

"Do you know if he's hot?" Sharpay Evans asked thoughtfully as she stirred her generously milky coffee.

Predictably, the African-American man who was stood behind the counter threw his hands up. "Hello? Pay. Fiancé within earshot here."

Sharpay flipped her blonde hair over her shoulder and waved him off. "I'm thinking of Gabi, actually. Honey, you know I love you."

Zeke smiled and leaned over the counter to kiss her. "You better."

Gabriella Montez pulled a face and held her hand over her eyes. "Please, you guys. That was cute the first week after you got together when we were nineteen. Now it just makes me want to vomit."

Zeke laughed and rested his elbows on the counter. "So, answer Pay's question. Is he hot?"

Gabriella quirked an eyebrow. "Do you know how gay that sounds? People will start thinking you're batting for the other team."

He rolled his eyes. "Hey, you complain when I don't contribute enough and now you complain because I'm contributing too much."

Sharpay patted his arm. "Go back to work, honey."

He sighed. "It's not like the owner can fire me, can he?"

Gabriella sipped her mocha latte. "That was never a funny joke."

Zeke frowned. "You're mean."

"Why do you want to marry him?" Gabriella wondered as she watched Zeke go back to the pile of dough he was in the middle of kneading.

Sharpay shrugged. "Haven't a clue. Anyway, stop avoiding the question."

Gabriella laughed. "Shar, I don't know. I haven't met him. I dropped my application through the letterbox and he left a message on my answering machine, asking for an interview today. So, we shall see."

"But, did he _sound_ hot?"

Gabriella shook her head. "I don't know. I can't say I've ever sat down and classified people's voices as hot or otherwise, Shar."

Sharpay frowned. "Well, you'll have to tell me all about it. I mean, him, not anything to do with fuel caps or distributor pumps."

Gabriella sighed. "For the last time it's a fuel pump and a distributor cap. How many times do I have to tell you?"

As Sharpay proceeded to rant about why she didn't need to know about cars considering she had a mechanic for a best friend, Gabriella couldn't help but smile. They'd probably had the exact same conversation, in the exact same seats, with the exact same drinks a zillion times. Perhaps it was a little too repetitious and a lot of people would grow bored of it. But to Gabriella and Sharpay, it reminded them exactly why they had become friends in the first place. They were at sixth form together and despite Gabriella not quite being old enough to drive, she had spotted Sharpay peering unsurely into the smoking engine of her pink convertible and had approached her. Taking a quick look, Gabriella had burst out laughing. "You think your car would start with that rotting fuel pump? And don't even get me started on your distributor cap." Those were her exact words before she'd proceeded to phone her dad, asking him for replacements for Sharpay's engine. Ever since that day, Sharpay had feigned naivety where cars were concerned.

Their tastes in coffee reflected who they were. A month after they had met, whilst witnessing their ever-growing friendship (which inevitably turned into sisterhood), Sharpay had laughingly, and quite accurately, called them chocolate and vanilla. While Gabriella had her raven curls, chocolate eyes and naturally darkly tanned skin, Sharpay had always had her mass of blonde curls and her pale skin which had the inability to tan, only the ability to burn. And still, their differences never quite stopped. They always found new ways to differ. The only thing they could really agree on was that they loved each other like sisters should.

"...so, you see, why would I need to know about the disgusting ins and outs of how my car works. When it's broken, I ring you and you wave your magic wand and it's fixed," Sharpay finished as she slid her empty cup away. That's another thing: Sharpay could talk non-stop but she still manage to finish her coffee before Gabriella.

Gabriella quirked an eyebrow as she swirled the last lukewarm remains around her mug. "I hate to break it to you, but I'm not Harry Potter."

"You are of mechanics," Sharpay exclaimed.

Gabriella smiled and downed the last of her coffee. "Anyway, I must go. I don't want to be late and make a bad first impression. She pulled an old, fraying, discoloured bandana from the back pocket of her oil-stained jeans. It was similar to the one that she tied around her left wrist every day. She carefully tied the bandana around her mass of curls so that her hair didn't fall into her eyes. Once she was satisfied with her hair, she hugged Sharpay tightly. "Oh, I love you, Shar."

Sharpay smiled as she pulled back. She held her friend's wrist, the one with the bandana around, reminding Gabriella just why she wore the bandana there in the first place. "You'll do great. I know you will."

Gabriella slid off of the stool she had been perched on and gave Sharpay a reassuring smile. "I know I will. What am I, Zeke?" She called over the counter to Zeke who had just closed the oven door.

He wandered over and grinned at the woman who was like a little sister to him. "You'll do great because you're a kickass mechanic."

Gabriella nodded and bent down to pick her bag up. "Exactly. I was taught by the best, you know. But, despite my awesomeness as a mechanic, he thinks I'm a guy. It's hard to be a woman in this industry. Anyway, see you guys later."

She headed out of Zeke's cafe, towards Huntriss Row. It was a side street off the main shopping precinct, not varying much from Lloyd's TSB bank, McDonalds and a backstreet jeweller who sold rings at the prices of _Tiffany's_ where Sharpay shopped. Gabriella paused by the window and unconsciously gripped the strap of her bag tighter as she surveyed the sparkling diamonds in the window. It seemed silly to look in the window, considering how she could never afford them with her erratic salary. But still, she could imagine owning one. She frowned as she looked down at her hands and realised how ugly jewellery would look there. She'd always been a nail biter and she could never quite scrub the oil stains from her skin. She looked back to the window and sighed. Never mind.

She turned away before the owner could send her away for being unworthy and headed towards the small garage at the end of the street. She'd never been there before, only to drop her application off, but everything seemed to be in order. It had the ramps to lift the cars on, a good supply of tools on some shelves, and about six cars parked outside. They were either employees or customers. And if they were all customers, all Gabriella could think was _Good on ya!_ She knew how hard it was for backstreet garages to be successful.

She crossed the street and stood in the entrance, staring at the Renault Cleo with an M registration number that was in the middle of the workshop. The bonnet was open and she stepped closer. One glance at the engine, and she knew it needed the fan replacing and the oil pan left a lot to be desired, too. She looked around at the place and finally realised how deserted it was. There wasn't anybody around. At all.

"Hello?" she called out unsurely.

"Hello," a voice greeted as a guy stood up behind the car.

Gabriella held her hand to her heart. "Oh my god. Don't freaking do that."

"Sorry, I didn't hear you come in." He held up a rather scary hardback maths textbook. "I was studying."

Gabriella frowned. "Shouldn't you be working?"

The guy shrugged. "My dad prefers me to actually get my degree than help out here. I'm just watching the place for him while he went to the call out he just had."

Gabriella nodded slowly. "So your dad owns this place?"

The guy nodded as he threw the textbook carelessly onto a nearby table that was cluttered with different tools, oil stained rags and assorted drinks cans and mugs. He wandered around to Gabriella. "Yeah. He'll be back soon. Can I help? I'm Andy Bolton."

She looked him up and down. Blonde hair, blue eyes and a smile which hinted that he had a little too much experience with girls. A know-it-all, probably. A sexist, obviously. And his father was probably worse. It was extremely likely that Mr Bolton would say flat out, 'no' without having her perform any kind of mechanical work whatsoever, but if she did get the job, it would probably be her idea of hell. For years, she'd been quite happy working alongside her father, but bankruptcy had forced her to work at a nearby Ford garage. But, the sexist jokes weren't just insulting, they were also hurtful from some of the guys that worked there. So, this was the next best thing. And she was no expert, but she was willing to bet that being insulted was easier from two guys than from twenty.

"Well, I suppose anyone's better than nothing," she muttered. "I'm Gabriella Montez. I'm here for the interview."

Andy frowned. "For the new mechanic? Really? You?"

Gabriella rolled her eyes. "Oh my god. Why is everyone so prejudice about women being mechanics? It's not that big of a deal. I suppose I should've guessed you'd be the same. Your dad called me Mr Montez on the message he left at me."

Andy shrugged. "You only put G. Montez on your application."

"Do I have to elaborate as to why?" she muttered. "Look, when will your dad be back?"

Andy turned to look at the clock hanging on the wall and shrugged. "Maybe ten minutes? You can help me with maths, if you'd like, while we wait. Don't suppose you know anything about logarithms, do you?"

"I wrote my dissertation on logarithms," she exclaimed.

"Really? Maths degree?" he asked dubiously.

Gabriella laughed. "Request of my father. He knew how much being a mechanic meant to me but he wanted me to have something to fall back on. He didn't care what I was qualified to do, as long as I had a plan B."

"Ah. I get it," he murmured. "You know, girls who like maths really turn me on."

Gabriella slowly shook her head. "Guys with big egos turn me off." She stepped around him and dropped her bag near the table where his maths book was. "So, this is all your dad's?"

Andy followed her and shrugged. "Yeah. He started it when he was about twenty five, I think."

Gabriella turned to him. "Well, not the greatest of first impressions so far but I admire a man's ability to invest well and your father obviously did."

Andy nodded slowly. "Yeah. He did."

Gabriella was silent as she inspected (with secret approval) the tools that scattered the workshop. Andy had given her the impression of a flirtatious young guy who didn't appreciate women who either rejected him or went for a job that was deemed 'masculine'. But now, his deafening silence indicated that he was wiser than his years. For one reason or another, he'd maybe seen a little too much of life's harshness and the playboy who she'd just encountered was probably the result.

A shrill ring pierced the silence and she patted her jean pockets before rushing to her discarded bag. "_Mierda!_" **(A/N: Shit) **She recognised that tone. It was different to the others. This one only rang every so often. And when it did, her heart raced, her breath caught in her throat, and she ultimately panicked. She panicked that she might not reach the phone in time and the phone would stop ringing.

"Hey, are you okay?" Andy asked worriedly as Gabriella dropped to her knees and began frantically emptying her bag in search of her phone.

"I'm fine," she muttered as she rummaged through the mass of papers, compact hairbrush slash mirror, the book that she was currently ploughing through, the tangle of earphones that were coiled around her bruised and battered, rather bulky iPod, until she came across her scratched mobile phone. It was vibrating annoyingly against the concrete floor, giving the appearance that even her phone, ultimately her lifeline, joined in her panic for her to answer the call.

"I've got to take this," she said hurriedly as she ran outside, bumping into someone in her haste for privacy.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Well, I missed the Monday upload. Sorry! Jeesh. I'm terrible at these upload commitments :P Enjoy!**

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><p><span>Chapter 2<span>

Andy sighed in bewilderment as he began piling the rest of Gabriella's belongings back into her bag. He nodded in approval of the library copy of _Moby Dick_ that he put into her denim bag that was fraying and was stained with grease and oil. He supposed that if she was a true mechanic, that part was inevitable. He didn't know what his dad would think, but so far, Gabriella had certainly made an impression. Perhaps a confusing one, but at least she seemed serious about her job.

"Hey, who's that?" a voice asked.

Andy stood up and brushed the knees of his overalls down. He smiled at his father, Troy Bolton. With greying hair and a few wrinkles around his eyes and forehead, his body was succumbing to the cruelties of time. Still, Andy wasn't an idiot. He knew that women still found him attractive. He was willing to bet that his father could be eighty, living in a nursing home, and the old grannies there would still be smitten with him. It wasn't just his father's looks that made women, of all ages, flaunt themselves at him. It was the confident air about him, his ambition and determination to succeed.

Andy gestured to where Gabriella was pacing back for outside. "You'll meet her in a minute. What was the call out about?"

Troy laughed and rolled his eyes. "Kels had a flat tyre. Jase was at work. So, I changed it for her. We need to order a replacement for her spare."

Andy nodded and reached in the pocket of his overalls for a pad and pen, jotting it down as a reminder. "Was she alright?" he asked as he put the pad back into his pocket.

Troy smiled and nodded slowly. "Yeah. I think she is. We mostly talked about you, actually."

"Why me?" Andy exclaimed. "I know she's my godmother and I love her, but even so. Why me?"

Troy shrugged. "Why not, sport?" he asked. He ruffled his son's hair as he wandered past, towards the table and picked the maths textbook up. "Did you get much studying done?"

Andy frowned as he righted his hair. "I told you when I was thirteen not to call me that," he grumbled as he took the textbook off of Troy. "And, yes, I started revising beloved logarithms."

Troy quirked an eyebrow. "And in English for your dear old father..."

"Never mind," Andy muttered as he threw the book aside.

"Did that applicant for the new job turn up? He never got back to me, confirming or denying that he'd be here," Troy exclaimed.

Andy gave a nervous laugh. "Oh, you'll find out soon."

Gabriella wandered back in, pushing her mobile phone into her back pocket. "Sorry about that," she murmured.

Andy saw the way that Troy scrutinised her. He knew that Troy wasn't a bad man. But, he had no clue how his father would react. "Dad, this is Gabriella, the applicant for the job. Gabriella, this is my dad, Troy Bolton."

Gabriella gave a bright smile and held her left hand out; he noticed there was a shaggy, moth-eaten rag wrapped around it, similar to the one in her hair. "How do you do?"

Troy shook her hand tentatively. "Hi. I'm Troy. You're the applicant?"

"Would it help if I introduced myself as Mr Montez?" Gabriella asked, defiantly crossing her arms.

"I'm sorry about that," he muttered but Gabriella detected some reluctance.

"Those are words. It's not an apology." She sighed, and lifted a hand to brush her bangs away from her eyes. "Look, if I wasn't desperate for work, I wouldn't have turned up today. But, here I am. So I'd appreciate a little bit of respect."

Troy glanced at Andy and then threw his hands up, as if he was helpless. "I'm sorry but you're not what we're looking for." He stepped past her and headed towards the back office.

Without considering the consequences, Gabriella marched after him and stood in the doorway with her arms folded. "You're wrong."

"Excuse me?" Troy asked as he began searching in a filing cabinet for something.

"You might not be looking for someone like me, but I'm exactly what you need. For no other reason than to stop you being a sexist bastard. Women are just as capable as men to be a mechanic. It's no reason to refuse me of a job," she exclaimed. She shrugged. "Besides, you must _want_ me because you asked for an interview. So, logically, I sort of figured out that the only reason you're rejecting me is because I'm a woman. You can't deny that."

"But," Troy protested, "You took a call before the interview. It was rather rude, actually."

Gabriella's anger drained from her face and an icy coldness replaced it. She looked so cold and still, that someone would've mistaken her for a statue. "Yes," she said curtly. "I took a phone call. It was private and I have no right to apologise for it."

"Would you take private calls whilst on the job?" Troy asked.

"Only from that number," she muttered. "I don't care about other calls."

Troy stared at her for a moment. "Alright. You have one chance to prove that you're a good mechanic and you know how to fix a car. That Renault out there," he pointed over her shoulder to the car in the workshop, "has two problems. You have to solve both before the day is over. If you can do that with no mistakes, you're hired."

Gabriella nodded solemnly. "Deal."

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><p>Andy felt someone appear next to him and looked away from the thrilling chapter on quadratic equations to quirk an eyebrow at Troy. "What's up?"<p>

Troy was silent and instead looked over to what they could see of Gabriella. It wasn't that much, mostly just her knees. The rest of her was hidden by the engine, on one of the creepers. In the silence, the only sounds were those of the outside world and the quiet tinkering of Gabriella's work. As reluctant as he was to admit it, there was something about the scene in front of him that made Gabriella seem just at home. She was comfortable. She was happy. She was just...natural.

"Why don't you like her?" Andy asked quietly.

"It's not that I don't like her," Troy murmured. "It's just alien. Andy, this town isn't that big. I've never come across a woman like her before."

"Are you going to hire her? Because you should. She's obviously good at the job. And she likes logarithms so I vote yes." He smiled at Troy.

Troy sighed and watched as Gabriella came out on the creeper from underneath the car. She stood up and inspected the engine of the car. She had oil smudged on one cheek and her white shirt was now rather black. But, still, that just proved how much at home she was. It seemed like the picture would be incomplete without her. He watched her wipe her hands on a rag and a look of pride and satisfaction crossed her face as she shut the bonnet.

Troy wandered over and folded his arms. "How long did you say you'd been doing mechanical work?"

Gabriella shrugged as she stuffed the dirty rag into the back pocket of her jeans. "Since I was about fourteen or fifteen. My dad was a mechanic and I always hung out in his garage so he taught me from a young age."

Andy laughed. "I know how _that_ feels."

Troy shot his son a mock glare. "Anyway, I'm impressed. I haven't met many women in this town that can change a tyre, let alone change the fan and the oil pan."

Gabriella quirked an eyebrow and folded her arms. "Are you admitting that you were wrong?"

"I'm saying that you're hired. Isn't that enough?" he muttered.

Gabriella smiled widely and shrugged. "I'll take what I can get."

Troy nodded slowly. "Alright. 9:30 tomorrow?"

"Alright then." She headed over to where her bag was still discarded on the floor.

He watched her as she took out a packet of, what seemed to be, make up removal wipes and her compact mirror. She delicately wiped the cheek with the oil on, then wiped the rest of her face and threw the wipe into a nearby bin. She was different; an anomaly in the small town that was Scarborough. With an estimated population of fifty thousand, it was no Hollywood. Movie stars weren't in residence and it was probably _the_ place to live if a crime-free life was desired. But, still, the female population were, quite frankly, still obsessed with the cosmetic appearance just like every other female in the world. None of them would be willing to have oil on their face. But, still, he was amazed to find that, despite Gabriella wiping her face down, nothing changed. She evidently wasn't wearing makeup. Perhaps that was logical considering her job as a mechanic. But, there was something about the way that she moved that hinted that she knew that she was naturally attractive, and Troy wouldn't be surprised if she went without make up on a daily basis.

He wasn't sure how this would work out. Troy had his opinions and Gabriella had hers. She was just as, if not more, stubborn as he was. But, he could credit her for standing up for what she believed in. The only thing they could do was take it one day at a time. Hopefully, the tension between them would subside and she would be a regular employee and, hopefully, a friend. He'd found over the years that a small business such as his own only functioned as it should when everybody was friends. It would never work if he and Gabriella clashed too much. But, he wasn't willing to admit that a part of him wanted them to get along, if only because she was clearly a good and dedicated mechanic.

Andy shook his head to himself at his dad's obvious denial of how much their business was in need of Gabriella. And, more importantly, Troy was denying how much _he_ needed someone exactly like Gabriella. "Hey, are you busy tonight Gabriella?"

Gabriella had just managed to untangle her knotted vines of earphones and looked up at Andy. "Tonight? Why do you want to know?"

Andy shrugged and flipped the page of his book. "Me and dad were going to a local pub tonight. I'm bringing my best friend with me. You can come with us."

Gabriella slowly stood up and pulled her bag onto her shoulder, iPod in hand. "As much as I'd love to be around three men who will probably spend the evening slagging off women mechanics, I don't think so. I have much better things to do with my time."

"Three men?" Andy exclaimed as he shut his text book. "No. You misunderstood me. My best friend is a woman. Steph. You won't be alone."

Gabriella looked between the two Bolton men. "Well, maybe she can help me out and help me understand the both of you."

Troy rubbed his forehead. "You really don't have to, you know. If you've already got plans, that's alright."

Gabriella shrugged. "I was going to spend my Saturday night having a _Harry Potter_ marathon, complaining about things they missed from the books and having a Chinese takeaway." She faltered. "I didn't realise how dorky that was until I said it out loud. No, I'll come. If that's okay."

"Of course it is," Andy reassured. "We're meeting at _The Duchess_ at about seven-ish."

Gabriella nodded. "Okay. I'll meet you there."

Troy waited until Gabriella had walked away until he glared at Andy. "Give me one logical explanation as to why those words just left your mouth."

Andy shrugged. "She needs to know that we're not complete Neanderthals. Steph will talk to her and convince her that we're not sexist bastards."

Troy frowned. "You, my friend, have been around your Aunt Taylor way too much."

Andy grinned in response. "Well, it was either that or I become more like Uncle Chad."

"Okay, you win," Troy muttered.

"It won't be that bad," Andy consoled. "It'll be fun."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Here it is :D I'm currently going insane right now. Exam prep. Watching Gaga on BBC's big weekend, waiting for Gaga to release 'Hair' (about 9PM GMT time), waiting for a week on Wednesday. I will be 18. I'll be legally required to act like a grown up. Haha. Yeah right.**

**Anyway, enjoy :D x**

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><p><span>Chapter 3<span>

"Can I come?" Sharpay pleaded.

"No," Gabriella exclaimed. "You can't. That would be weird. My friend and my boss? It's weird enough going to a pub with my boss. The only reason I did is because I need reassurance that this isn't a completely stupid idea of mine. Besides, you'd spend the entire evening praising him for his hotness and criticising him for the dorky side of him. No, you can't come."

Gabriella drank some of her iced tea through a straw. She was sat by herself in the corner of the bar area of _The Duchess_. The dim lighting was just enough for her to be able to read _Moby Dick_ without straining her eyes. She'd spent about twenty minutes staring into her wardrobe before deciding on a white button down shirt and a black knee length skirt. Simple, but smart enough to show Troy and Andy that she wasn't covered in oil all of the time. The only thing that they would recognise would be the bandana tied around her wrist. Whilst listening to Sharpay's babble, she looked around the partly deserted pub and wondered if this was a hoax. Maybe they had stood her up.

"Is he there yet?" Sharpay asked impatiently. Her friend might as well have been sat in front of her for the sheer clarity of the image that Gabriella had of her. Sharpay would be curled up on the couch, next to Zeke, resting one hand on his thigh, the other clutching the phone to her ear, and telling Zeke off when he turned the TV volume up. There was something reassuringly predictable about her extravagant friend.

Gabriella smiled to herself. "Nope. Just me and Moby Dick. And a creepy guy who keeps looking over at me."

"See! You need me for company," Sharpay exclaimed triumphantly.

Gabriella twirled one of her freefalling dark curls around her finger. "No I don't. At least," she countered, "not right now. Shar, you've never dealt with bosses before. They're tricky, hard work, and, most prominently, confusing. I did not put 'nosy best friend' as one of my references."

Sharpay's joyous laugh rang into Gabriella's ear. "You should have done that."

Gabriella rolled her eyes to herself. "Yes, but then I wouldn't have a job."

"Hey, you made it," a voice greeted.

Gabriella looked up to see Troy, Andy and a pretty red-head staring at her. She held her finger up, indicating she'd only be a minute. "Uh, Shar, I have company. I'll call you back later, okay?"

Whilst she was finishing the conversation, Troy and Andy headed towards the bar and the red-head sat down next to her and shrugged her jacket off. Sneaking sideways glances at her, Gabriella saw that she was maybe two years younger than Andy, with little, if any, makeup applied to her face. Her hair was curled generously and pinned into a relaxed up do, a few locks framing her face. Her beauty was simple and natural. But, as Andy's friend, Steph if she remembered correctly, shyly looked over to where Andy was laughing at what Troy had just said, Gabriella realised that she was naturally nice as well as beautiful.

Gabriella slipped her phone into her bag, closely followed by her book. "Sorry about that. Gabriella." She held her hand out.

Steph smiled and nodded, shaking her hand. "Steph. You're working for Troy?"

Gabriella nodded, stirring her iced tea with her straw. "Believe it or not. He seemed reluctant but even he couldn't deny a good mechanic, no matter man or woman."

"He's not as bad as he seems," she murmured. "He's complicated."

Gabriella cracked a smile. "Complicated is my middle name." She paused. "Well, not literally. I actually have five middle names and 'complicated' isn't one of them. But, you get the picture."

"Why are you nervous?" Steph asked quietly with a frown.

Gabriella gave a laugh. "What makes you think that I'm nervous?"

"You rambled. Generally, people only ramble when they're nervous," she murmured.

Gabriella smiled and shook her head. "No nerves her. Nerve-free zone. If the nerve police came in here, there wouldn't be any arrests."

"Gabriella," she said calmly, "you can tell me. Those guys over there are oblivious. They won't register that something's bothering you."

"Sometimes it's better that way," Gabriella whispered. "I don't want this to be a mistake. Troy was too reluctant to employ me for comfort. I just need reassurance that this is going to last because not many people are willing to employ a woman as a mechanic. I don't want this to backfire like an exhaust."

Steph rolled her eyes. "Jesus, another person who uses car similes."

Gabriella laughed. "I can't help it."

"Don't worry about this. It'll get better. Andy likes you. I can tell. Troy is a little harder to convince. But, like you said, he's not stupid. He knows a good mechanic when he sees one. He'll come around, I promise."

Andy and Troy headed back over. Troy had a pint of lager and Ander had a pint of lager and a white wine. Andy gave the white wine to Steph and gestured with his head to the pool room. "Want a game?"

Troy groaned. "You promised that you wouldn't."

"Come on, Dad. We won't be long, I promise." Before either Troy or Gabriella could protest, Andy and Steph had moved towards the pool table.

To do something during the awkward silence, Gabriella sipped her drink. She avoided looking at Troy and, instead, stared at the small money spider that was slowly climbing down the beautiful thread of silk that Incy Wincy (as she named him in the moment) could miraculously and naturally make. She watched the incredible work of Mother Nature before her very eyes and, with a practiced ease, calculated in the minimal time possible that Incy Wincy would land exactly on top of Troy's mop of grey-streaked hair.

Troy had taken his blazer jacket off and was now occupying himself by attempting to stand the drinks' coaster on its side. Instead of taking offence like she should have been that he was obviously bored in her company, she was timing her movement just right so that when Incy Wincy was within reach, she leaned over the table and Troy and let Incy Wincy land safely in the palm of her hand.

She sat back down contentedly and let Incy Wincy crawl all over her palm. She smiled across at Troy. "Isn't he cute?"

Troy looked across and his vision zoned in on the black speck that was moving all over Gabriella's hand. "_That_ was going to land on me?"

Gabriella nodded. "But he's safe now. Isn't that great?"

Troy looked, to Gabriella's amusement, as if he was on the verge of hyperventilation. "Get it away from me. If you value your short-lived job, goddamit, you will get it away from me."

Concluding that losing her job was not worth the satisfaction of teasing Troy's obvious fear of spiders, she stood up and let Incy Wincy free through a nearby open window. She sat back down opposite Troy and folded her arms in satisfaction.

"Don't say anything," he hissed.

Gabriella shrugged. "I never said a word."

"You didn't have to," he muttered. After a pause, he sighed. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. I think. I didn't really do anything. It's not like it was going to kill you," she exclaimed.

"I can't help it. I hate spiders. They're horrible." He shivered violently.

Gabriella sipped her drink. "I love spiders. I had a pet one called Fluffy when I was seven. Kept him in a shoebox in my wardrobe and I fed him dead flies."

Troy pulled a face and sipped his lager. "That's disgusting."

"That's what my mum said she found out. So I had to say goodbye to Fluffy. I can remember what my mum said right to this day. _¿Por qué__mantener__un__insecto__sucia__en__el armario__de esa manera?__¿Quién__sabe__quéenfermedades__está__llevando__?__¿Cuándo va a__ser__siempre__un niño__normal__?_2" **(A/N: Why would you keep a filthy spider in your wardrobe like that? Who knows what diseases it could be carrying? When will you be a normal child?) **She laughed at Troy's vacant expression. "My mum and dad are from El Salvador and moved over here before I was born. People ask me what my first language is. I don't have an answer. I pretty much learnt English and Spanish at the same time."

He nodded slowly. "So what did that mean? What you just said in Spanish, I mean."

She smiled. "She was basically wondering why I wasn't a normal child."

"And then you grew up to be a woman mechanic," he exclaimed.

She laughed. "Yeah. Mum realised that there was no changing my mind so she had to accept it."

They lapsed into a comfortable silence that was spent with the pair of them sipping their respective drinks. A moment later, a shrill series of beeps resonated from her bag. She reached down and dug through the mass of essentials she had before she found her phone and flipped it open. Dropping her bag to the floor, she read the text by Sharpay in amusement.

**Rate him on a scale of 1 to 10 x**

Gabriella rolled her eyes as she shut her phone and set it on the table without replying. "Best friend," she murmured. "She wants to know my rating of you on a scale of one to ten."

"And you're not responding?" he asked.

She shrugged. "She'll want all the details tomorrow anyway."

"So what's your answer?" he asked, resting his forearms on the table and leaning closer.

A smile pulled at Gabriella's lips as she leaned closer, just like he had. "If I told you, I'd have to kill you." She leaned back and shrugged at him. "I'm undecided."

"Well, that's comforting," Troy muttered.

"Be grateful my friend isn't here. She'd be interrogating you," she teased.

Troy nodded to himself, fiddling with a coaster again. "Sounds about right."

"Don't worry. I'm nothing like her. We're polar opposites," she reassured.

In the ensuing silence, a loud ring of laughter rang out from the pool room. Gabriella looked through the doorway to see Steph leaning against a pool cue, laughing at something Andy had just said. "What's their deal?"

Troy looked over at his son and his best friend. He turned back to Gabriella and shrugged. "She's the daughter of some friends of mine, who I've know a really long time. It was sort of a given that they'd be friends and they've proven us right. Kelsi, her mum, keeps saying they'll get together. But, me and Jason are against it."

Gabriella frowned. "Why are you against it?"

He shrugged. "They're so close, we don't want them to get torn apart."

"You can't stop them from being together. People do get torn apart. Sometimes, there's no reason for it. It just happens and there's nothing anybody can do about it. Take it from somebody who knows." She straightened her back and an enigmatic look settled on her face, reminding Troy, once again, of the poker face of a statue.

Troy wasn't sure how to respond and was grateful when Andy and Steph joined them again with empty glasses. "Do you guys want some refills?"

Troy nodded and handed his son his empty glass. "Same again. It's been a long day."

Andy gestured to Gabriella's glass. "Gabriella?"

Her iciness melted away and she realised what Andy was offering. She stared at her empty glass and frowned. "I don't know. I think I should get home."

"Aw, don't go," Steph pleaded. "Stay."

Gabriella shrugged. "Sure. Another iced tea, please."

"You sure you don't want some wine?" Andy asked sceptically as he reached for her glass.

Gabriella shook her head. "No thank you. Just an iced tea."

"How have you guys been getting along?" Steph asked.

"Like a house on fire," Troy muttered.

"Do I detect sarcasm?" she asked.

Gabriella shrugged. "How well do you want us to get along? I learnt that he suffers from extreme arachnophobia."

Troy nodded. "And I know that she was a creepy child who had a pet spider called Fluffy."

Steph gave them both a look of disbelief. "We leave alone and that's the best you can do?"

Troy quirked an eyebrow. "I employed this Spanish-talking, spider-loving woman today. I'm not going to know her life story."

"Besides," Gabriella murmured, "I don't want him to know my life story."

"Why am I not privy to that information?" Troy protested.

"A number of reasons," she exclaimed as Andy returned with their drinks. "Number one, I've known you a day. Forgive me for not being an open book to complete strangers. Number two, you're my boss. Call me old fashioned but I like to keep my personal life separate from my professional life."

Andy nudged Troy's shoulder. "She definitely told you."

Troy nodded slowly and stood up. "I need some air." He left his full glass on the table and left Gabriella, Steph and Andy behind.

In the silence that followed, Steph offered Gabriella a comforting smile. "He'll lighten up. It's still your first day."

"It doesn't make it any easier," Gabriella muttered.

Andy offered her a smile. "Don't quit yet. I know even I didn't make the greatest impression but you'll be good for him."

"Besides," Steph began, "Uncle Troy needs some oestrogen in that place. The testosterone is unbearable."

"Listen," Gabriella started as she rummaged through her bag, "I think I should go." She tossed some change onto the table. "Thanks for the drink but I should go."

Andy shot Steph a worried look. "Look," he started. "Don't quit. Please."

She continued pulling her jacket on. "Listen, Steph told me that your father's complicated. And that's fine. He can be whatever the hell he wants to be. But, when 'complicated' should my legal middle name, I don't need him making my work life hell. Being a mechanic is the one time when things make sense. I take one glance at an engine and I know how to fix it. I don't want him to ruin that for me. Because all of my life, I've been made fun of, bullied, and been made an outcast because I'm a woman. Right from being fourteen when I started. I thought a backstreet garage might be different."

Andy stood up at the same time she did. "I'm serious. Don't quit. My dad is complicated. But, he won't ruin this. We're in need of a good mechanic and he knows one when he sees one. He wouldn't have said yes if he didn't want you around."

"He rejected me before he'd seen me do any work," she protested.

"And he was wrong. Please hang around. Promise me," Andy pleaded.

"What's in it for me?" she whispered.

Andy shrugged. "I'll think of something. And I'll talk to him."

"Fine," she sighed. "But if he doesn't lighten up and at least try to make this work, I'm out. See you later."

Pulling her bag onto her shoulder, she headed to the door. Once outside, she saw Troy leaning against a wall, staring at the sky, his hands dug deep in his pocket. She stared at him, wondering what was going through his head. What made him so complicated? What made his eyes that icy blue? What made him so reluctant to employ her and be _civil_ towards her?

He looked over at her. "What?"

She sighed. "Nothing. Absolutely nothing." She went to walk away but turned back around to face him. "Everybody has complications. But it doesn't mean you should treat people badly. In fact, you should treat people with even more respect because you never know when you'll need them. Think about that before I get into work tomorrow."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I'm sorry I forget to upload on Monday. But, I guess this is more of a celebratory chapter. I'm 18 tomorrow :D :D :D Anyway, enjoy :D**

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><p><span>Chapter 4<span>

Turning her iPod off, Gabriella saw a pair of legs poking out from beneath the Honda in the workshop. She sighed and, assuming it was Troy, called out, "Troy, I'm here."

No answer. At all.

Frowning, Gabriella set her stuff on the table and walked over to the legs of the person under the car. She nudged one of the heavy walking boots. "Hey, Bolton. Talk to me."

The person moved out from under the car on a creeper and Gabriella came face to face with a man who held a familiarity about him. His hair was completely grey and his skin held a few wrinkles, especially around his eyes. He got to his feet and brushed his hands on his overalls. Gabriella saw the blue eyes with the same intensity as Troy's and Andy's. Troy's dad? Must be. The eyes were exactly the same. Only softer, happier.

He smiled broadly. "You must be the famous Gabriella that Andy was telling me about. I'm Jack, Troy's dad."

Gabriella nodded slowly. "I must be. I'm only here because Andy persuaded Troy to hire me. And then Andy persuaded me to stay."

Jack shrugged. "It'll be worth it. Give him time."

"So where is Troy and, if you don't mind me asking, what are you doing here?"

"I work here sometimes. It's mostly just Troy and my other son, Jamie, but I sometimes do some work," he explained.

"Work?" a voice exclaimed. "That's a bit of an understatement. You usually tell me and Jamie how to run this place."

Troy sent Jack a joking smile. He turned to Gabriella and the smile slipped slightly. He gestured to the woman to the side of him. With grey-streaked reddish hair, a petite nose, brown eyes, and dressed in a smart summer dress, she was the image of friendliness. "Gabriella, this is my mum, Lucille, and my dad, Jack."

The woman stretched her hand out. "A pleasure to meet you. Andy says you're quite the mechanic."

Gabriella shrugged as she shook Lucille's hand. "My dad was a mechanic."

"Is it a family thing? That's what it's like with us," Jack joked.

Gabriella shook her head. "Not really. My sister isn't a mechanic and neither is my brother. Just me. But I like to think I'm good at my job. And I'm glad to be here." She glanced at Troy.

Lucille smiled. "Well, as much as I disapprove, Jack does visit here a lot so we'll probably see each other quite a bit."

"I'm looking forward to it," Gabriella replied.

"Dad, could you finish up here? I just need to talk to Gabriella in the office. Is that alright, Gabriella?" he asked.

Gabriella frowned. "If you're going to fire me before my first day, just do it now."

"I'm not firing you," he muttered. "Please."

Gabriella sighed but followed him into the back office. She sat down opposite Troy and couldn't help but feel like a student in the presence of the head teacher. She had succumbed to the rather unusual heat of Scarborough and decided on a pair of dungaree shorts and a white shirt. She'd always thought that her legs were the best part of her and they were ready to be covered in oil and scratches and grazes by the end of the day. She felt rather exposed as Troy stared at her. She didn't know what he was thinking but she wished he would just spit it out. She watched him as he reached for a piece of paper and pencil and began jotting things down. She watched his stained and calloused hands, the tell-tale signs of a mechanic, move across the page with perfect precision.

In the time while he was writing, she looked around the office. It was kind of dark, with only a small window at the back wall and a light fitting on the ceiling. Filing cabinets were stacked against the wall to her left, each drawer labelled clearly. A laptop was open on the desk in between her and Troy and various papers were stacked beside it. She looked over her shoulder and saw a bookcase stacked haphazardly with various DIY mechanics books and car magazines. Overall, the office was surprisingly tidy and organised. Of course, she couldn't tell if the cabinets were organised but, the immediate appearance was better than she expected. Something about Troy had made her assume that everything would be thrown around chaotically. But it wasn't.

Turning back to face Troy, she took a moment to analyse him; more for something to do than out of actual interest. She reluctantly admitted to herself that he was attractive. His shaggy hair was flecked with grey and tufted out at odd angles as if he tugged at it a lot. His tanned skin was wrinkled, especially on his forehead. His cobalt eyes were dark, just like Alejandro's pet corn snake, tempting her to drown in them. Her eyes were drawn, of their own accord, to his torso. Covered in an off-white t-shirt with a small tear near the neckline, his muscles were being unintentionally boasted to her; something about Troy's persona told her that he wasn't going out of his way to show off his muscles.

She averted her eyes. Anything to stop herself from admitting how attractive Troy was. And, more importantly, she was willing to do anything to stop herself from admitting how much he was affecting her. She tugged at the fraying seam of her shorts but couldn't help noticing, out of the corner of her eye, that Troy didn't wear a wedding band on his left hand.

Of course, that meant nothing. There were people in the world who were happily married but chose not to wear wedding bands. None that she knew, though. Her parents boasted their successful marriage and Sharpay had dragged Gabriella to more jewellers than she could count to ask Gabriella what kind of wedding rings she and Zeke should have. Of course, Gabriella was the wrong person to ask. Still, why was Gabriella so bothered? Nobody had mentioned Andy's mother, but the fact that Troy wasn't wearing a wedding ring should mean nothing to her.

So why did she feel like her heart was working so hard that it might backfire like an exhaust?

She stared at the piece of paper as he slid it across the desk towards her, folded into quarters. She frowned at him. He couldn't meet her eyes. "What is it?"

He shrugged, fiddling with his pencil. "Just read it."

Gabriella reached for it and unfolded the piece of paper. She saw two words: _I'm sorry_. He'd even drawn a really bad picture of a spider. She sighed and set it on his desk as she stood up. "Like I said yesterday: those are just words. Meaningless. It's not an apology."

He frowned. "What is an apology to you?"

She shrugged. "Figure it out."

Before she could leave, Troy spoke up. "I never complimented you. You clean up really well."

She cracked a smile. "I have to. My friend's getting married and I'm the maid of honour. She's making me wear gloves so that my fingers aren't on show." She frowned as she inspected her oil-stained fingertips. "I always said I was going to create a soap that actually gets oil off. Never got around to it."

He smiled and got to his feet. "Mechanics around the world would name you a hero if you did that."

Probably for the first time in his company, Gabriella laughed. "I suppose they would." She fiddled with her hands for a moment. "Your brother works here, too?"

Troy nodded. "Yeah. You'll probably meet him later today. He's not an owner. He didn't want that kind of responsibility."

She gestured with her thumb over her shoulder. "Should I get to work?"

Troy stared at her for a moment. "No. Not yet. Tell me about you. Why did you become a mechanic?"

"I told you," she muttered, stepping back and colliding rather clumsily against a bookshelf and a load of cars magazines and books fell to the floor. "I'm sorry," she mumbled as she began piling them up.

"It doesn't matter," he murmured softly. He rested a hand on her shoulder. "Leave it."

She reluctantly left them on the floor and stood up. "Sorry about that."

"I said it doesn't matter. I only asked why you became a mechanic," he exclaimed.

She shrugged. "I told you. My dad had a garage and I was overly-curious as a child and it was just kind of a given that I'd continue it."

"There's something else. Something you're not telling me," he whispered.

"I'm not telling you a lot of things. Please can I get to work?" she asked impatiently.

He nodded reluctantly. "Sure."

"Am I alright to have my lunch about half twelve?" she asked quietly.

He sighed. "Fine by me."

* * *

><p>"Hey, Papi," Gabriella murmured. She kissed her father's, Greg's, cheek and sat opposite him in a window booth of Zeke's cafe. She set her bag beside her and smiled across at the older man. His hair was greying, his tanned skin held more wrinkles, but his chocolate eyes, the eyes she saw everyday in the mirror, were still as bright as ever.<p>

"Morning, Gabi," he replied cheerfully. A Spanish accent clung to his voice that made Gabriella smile. According to Maria, her mother, it had taken her years to convince Greg to actually speak English, especially as he wanted his own business. Still, he spoke Spanish at home and expected the family to do the same.

She smiled gratefully at Sharpay who placed a black coffee with no sugar in front of Greg and a mocha latte in front of Gabriella. "How are you?" she asked quietly.

He shrugged. "I'm fine. Don't listen to whatever it is that your mother's been telling you."

She sighed, stirring her coffee. "Papi, be honest with me. I'm a big girl. How are you?"

He shrugged helplessly. "I'm still going strong. I've told you to stop worrying. You got all of your mother's genes."

Gabriella frowned at her blackened fingers. "Not all of them."

Greg's fingers wrapped around hers. Of course, his deteriorating health meant that, to his dismay, he hadn't touched a car's bonnet in months, and so his fingers were now pale, thin and showing the spiders' webs of veins beneath the skin. The only signs that he had ever been so determined to fix cars were the calluses. And Gabriella suspected that they'd be there until he died.

"I'm glad," he whispered.

"Me, too." Her reply was so quiet that she wondered if Greg had heard her. But, with a final squeeze of her hand, he let go of her hand and picked his mug up, taking a sip.

"Have you heard from Adela recently?" he asked. His tone was so conversational that it was as if they were discussing the weather. It was a coping mechanism. They all did it: Greg, Maria, her brother, Alejandro, and, yes, Gabriella was guilty of it, too. If they acted like it wasn't a big deal, their lives moved on. If they started to acknowledge that it was a big deal, the severity of the situation, they'd freeze. They wouldn't live anymore, they'd simply worry.

Gabriella smiled sadly. "Addie phoned yesterday, just before my interview."

"Any news?" he murmured.

Gabriella shook her head as she sighed. "Nope. She said that she loves all of our letters but she still can't tell us exactly where she is. She's missing us all, especially Mama's cooking. The food leaves a lot to be desired. And she's expecting a Red Cross parcel from us any time soon. Deodorant, toothpaste, magazines, newspapers, tinned food, Pot Noodles...anything really. Other than that, it wasn't anything drastic. She just wanted to hear my voice. And I wanted to hear hers. She wanted to phone us all but she only had a few minutes."

Greg nodded with a smile. His two daughters had always been ridiculously close. A lot of families would've been jealous of the extra letters and phone calls that Gabriella received. But, the other Montez's forgave them both. How could you not? With only three years between them, Gabriella the oldest, they had experienced everything at pretty much the same time. During the teenage years, when they were at their very worst with boys, grades, and a load of other changes he had no desire to know about, they swore to each other that they would always be with each other, no matter what. No matter if they were a thousand miles apart. They hadn't failed yet.

"Anyway," she began, turning away from the topic of her sister, "how's Mama?"

Greg quirked an eyebrow.

Gabriella laughed. "She's still fussing worse than ever, right?"

"Right," he muttered. "Blasted old woman. I'm doing just fine. When God decides that I'm not supposed to walk places, I'll get in a wheelchair, and I'll damn well get there faster." **(A/N: Yes, I did just reference 'Serendipity' – Gabriella's grandfather said something similar...)**

Gabriella swirled the last of her coffee around in her mug. "Papi, you need her and you damn well know you do."

Greg tried to look unconvinced but even he, the most reluctant person to show emotion, couldn't hide the sparkle that always showed in his eyes when he spoke about his wife. "So, how's the job?"

Gabriella shrugged. "He was reluctant to employ, I'm reluctant to stay. If I didn't need the money, I'd look elsewhere but I couldn't take those bastards down at Ford anymore. I'm desperate."

"Remember what I told you when you were fifteen?" he asked sternly.

Gabriella looked as if she was about to burst into a rather childish tantrum. Instead, she downed the last of her coffee and slammed her mug down in defiance. "Being a woman mechanic was never going to be easy. I know, Dad. But, I never asked for easy. I just asked for possible."

"That's my girl," he murmured.

Gabriella fiddled with the bandana around her wrist. "It's still not fair. He was way too reluctant. And then today, he practically wanted to know my entire life history."

"Where did Troy come into this?" Greg asked slowly.

Gabriella frowned. "What? I didn't mention Troy."

Greg quirked an eyebrow. "Okay, let's pretend you didn't. You need to be careful. If you mention him too much, Sharpay will be planning your wedding," he joked. "Now about how he wants to know your life history...that's natural. You're different. In a good way. But, it's not often that this town comes across someone like you. People are going to be curious."

She sighed. "It's hard, though. I don't want him to know anything about me. As long as he pays me, that's all I care about."


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Enjoy :D**

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><p><span>Chapter 5<span>

Jamie frowned as he munched his way through the BLT sandwich he had bought from a local baker's. Either his brother had finally had a breakdown or his nephew was much more persuasive than he let on. He was willing to bet it was the latter. It was too bad that Andy was so obsessed with maths and cars. He'd make an amazing lawyer. Or a politician. How had Andy persuaded Troy to hire a woman?

Now, Jamie knew his brother. Troy had nothing against women and neither did Jamie. Sarah, his wife, prevented him from expressing any sexist thoughts. But, Jamie remembered the time when Troy had built the business up from scratch. He'd been angry, distraught, helpless...but the one thing he'd promised Jamie is that the garage would stay a woman-free zone. Friends and family were allowed but no women employees at all.

So why had it changed?

He watched his brother curiously as he expertly altered the gearbox (the Landrover refused to drive in third gear without stalling). Ever since Jamie had arrived for work, Troy had been wittering on about Gabriella. Gabriella this, Gabriella that. Jamie probably wouldn't have minded as much, considering Troy was paying a woman some attention. But what was really annoying Jamie was that Troy knew nothing about her. He wasn't suggesting that his brother shouldn't have employed this Gabriella woman. As long as she was a good mechanic, Jamie wished her good luck. But, because Troy knew nothing about her, he kept repeating himself over and over again.

Jamie couldn't tell if Troy's fascination was a bad sign or if he was simply denying the fact that he needed someone exactly like her.

Jamie sighed as he finished his sandwich and rubbed the crumbs off his hands. "Okay," he began with his mouthful. He swallowed and tossed his rubbish into a nearby bin. "Troy, shut up. I don't care what Gabriella's like. I'm sure I'll meet her later. I don't care if she constantly has a bandana around her left wrist. I honestly don't care. As long as she can fix cars, I don't care."

Troy frowned as he rubbed his hands on a rag. "What's wrong with you?"

Jamie shrugged. "I don't know. Ever since I got here, you've only talked about her. But the problem is, you keep repeating yourself. Change the record already." He sighed. "I've got nothing against women, you know that Sarah wouldn't let me live until tomorrow if I did, but you said to me that this was a woman-free zone. Why did you hire her?"

"I don't know," Troy muttered as he slammed the bonnet of the Landrover shut.

"Are you having a breakdown?" Jamie asked worriedly.

Troy leaned against the closed bonnet. "I don't know."

Jamie frowned. "But, she's a good mechanic, right?"

Troy pushed himself off of the car and nodded. "Yeah. Changed the oil pan and fan of a car yesterday and she's been altering some of the electronics on a Hyundai today."

"Isn't that the main thing?" Jamie asked.

Troy sighed. "I just don't want any drama, that's all. I had my fair share of drama twenty years ago."

Jamie shrugged. "That isn't women. That's just life."

"She won't tell me anything. At all. It's worrying," he exclaimed.

Jamie shook his head. "She's not going to tell you everything. From what you've told me, she doesn't sound like a convicted axe murderer."

Troy shrugged. "You never know." He kicked at the spanner that he'd dropped on the floor and hadn't picked up yet. "I don't know. I'm just so used to everybody being open with each other when they work here."

Jamie folded his arms. "Can I ask you a serious question? And answer me honestly. Are you reluctant towards her because you're afraid of her?"

Troy laughed. "Jamie, don't be stupid. Of course not."

_Of course not_, he says. Lies. Troy had never been a terribly good actor. And it showed. He was lying through his teeth. Of course Troy was scared of Gabriella. Well, not specifically her. Just women in general. Especially women who seemed different. Women who didn't quite fit with Troy's past experience terrified him. Women were a foreign species, any man would tell you that. But, the difference between the average man and Troy was that the average man, such as Jamie, acknowledged that women were complicated and braved the gossiping, mood swings and arguments. Troy just blocked women out completely. He didn't give them a chance.

Jamie found it quite sad, really, because while Troy had every right to believe that women weren't worth the hassle, he was being illogical. The denial that Troy had of how much he needed a woman in his life had lasted over twenty years. And it was time for that denial to end. Troy had to give Gabriella a chance. Even if he wasn't willing to contemplate her as girlfriend material, at least as a friend. The business had always held employees who were friends and were willing to work together like a well oiled machine. But, who knows? Maybe this time would be different and Troy would discover how a woman's beauty would cancel out her complications.

Jamie snapped out of his thoughts to see Troy stood in front of him, looking exasperated. "What? What did I miss? Were you talking to me?"

Troy sighed, slamming a folder into Jamie's chest. "Look around. I'm not talking to the ghost of Auntie Mable. You're losing it, little brother," he muttered. He patted Jamie's shoulder as he walked past.

Frowning, Jamie flicked through the folder. "But, Troy, these are the accounts. Andy usually does these."

Troy shrugged helplessly. "Well Andy is in a lecture at the minute, learning about trees or flowers or..."

"Logarithms?" Jamie supplied helpfully.

"Logarithms," Troy muttered absently. "Those, too. And since you passed your maths GCSE the first time around and I didn't, you can do them."

Jamie frowned as Troy disappeared into the back office. "Chicken," he called as he sat down at the table and began methodically working through the expenses and the profits of the business. Undoubtedly, Troy would give the accounts to Andy to double check, anyway. But, for the next few minutes, Jamie was lost in the logical and sense-making world of numbers.

"Hey, I said I was sorry, didn't I? What more do you want?" a voice exclaimed, humour lacing its voice.

Turning in the vague direction, Jamie saw a woman, Gabriella no doubt, heading his way. She was on the shorter side, nowhere near six feet. But she looked the pure image of hard work. Her dungaree shorts and white t-shirt already showed progress of her work day with oil, coffee and a stain on her shoulder that was either ketchup or blood. He terribly hoped it was the former. Her dark hair, eyes and darkly tanned skin gave her a beautiful exotic look. Her toned legs were scratched and scarred and were obviously not exempt from the tell tale signs of her job.

She let out a ring of laughter as she offered a friendly smile to him and set her denim bag on the table. "I promise you that I'll spend my lunch hour tomorrow filling you in. But, be warned, there really isn't much to tell you...I don't know, I haven't asked. I've been a bit busy being really pissed off by him...No, his left hand his completely empty." By this time, all humour had vanished from her voice and was instantly replaced by frustration. "Shar, listen to me, I'm not interested. Look, I've got to go. I've got a man staring at me and laughing. I've got to go. Bye Shar." Sighing, she hung her phone up and threw it into her bag.

"Don't mind me." Jamie smiled and turned back to the accounts.

"Alright. Obviously a mechanic and you have the blue eyes I've seen constantly these past few days. You're a Bolton. Troy's brother? Jamie?" she asked.

He smiled and extended his hand. "Got it in one. No need to ask who you are. The famous Gabriella."

Gabriella nodded and pulled out a chair to sit down on. "Yep. Gabriella, that's me."

He nodded. "Well, I'm glad you're here. Andy tells me you like maths."

She shrugged. "My two one on my degree says that I do."

He slid the folder towards her. "Could you double check the accounts? It's usually Andy's job but he's at uni and so my brother loaded it on me."

She laughed. "Sure." She started perusing over the numbers, her eyes flitting back and forth. "Troy's the oldest, right?"

"Yep. My beloved older brother. How'd you know? Because of Troy's grey hair?" he joked.

Gabriella shrugged as she closed the folder and slid it away. "Not really. I can spot an older brother a mile away."

He quirked an eyebrow. "You have a brother?"

She nodded slowly. "Yeah. Five years older, a whole lot stupider. I'm kidding. He's not that bad. A bastard at times. And an ass. But he has good intentions."

"Brothers, eh?" Jamie laughed.

"Sisters are just the same." She smiled at the thought of her sister. "Addie's three years younger than me."

"Ah. Middle sibling," Jamie realised.

Gabriella was about to reply but a voice interrupted them. "Well, I go into the office for a minute, come back out and see you two gossiping."

"For your information," Jamie protested, "I was getting to know my newest workmate."

"Get to work," Troy muttered.

"And on that note," Gabriella began as she stood up, "I have a Hyundai calling my name."

She picked up her tool box from beneath the table and headed out into the car park.

"What do you think?" Troy asked as Gabriella opened the bonnet of the car she'd been working on that morning.

Jamie stood up and shrugged. "She's nice. And hot."

Troy groaned. "Don't go there."

"I'm just saying," he exclaimed.

Troy sighed as he watched Gabriella bend over to inspect the engine. What did it matter if she was hot or otherwise? He was her boss and she was his employee. Nothing less, nothing more. And it would stay that way.

* * *

><p>"...and then you carry the one and, voila. X equals three," Andy explained calmly.<p>

Steph rolled her eyes and turned back to her textbook. "That's fascinating and confusing and it doesn't make any sense to me. But, if you don't mind, I'm reading about the anatomy of the starfish."

Andy quirked an eyebrow. "Fascinating."

"It is actually. I'm going to write my dissertation on it. And if I ever get around to doing my Masters, I want to write a thesis on starfish," she explained.

"Steph, the amount you talk about starfish, I could write a thesis on them," he exclaimed.

Steph sighed and turned back to her textbook. They were sat opposite each other at the dining room table of her house. A mountain of textbooks, notebooks and papers separated them. Andy had just attempted, and failed, to explain some kind of mathematical equation to her. But, he got nowhere. She was much better when learning about the ocean. He was too optimistic sometimes. Ever since they left sixth form, she had sworn never to study maths again. The only reason she had sat maths at A Level was because it looked impressive on university applications. But, Andy remained ever hopeful that she would one day return to his world.

Fat chance. She was more than happy scuba diving to study fish in her own seaside town. A lot of people wondered why she hadn't moved away to go to university like the majority of her friends had. Given the chance, they had left Scarborough's confining and sheltering walls and went into the big, wide world. Not her, though. Why? She wasn't sure. Andy had a valid reason. His family was complicated and he'd stayed home to keep an eye on his father. But she didn't have complications in her family. In fact, her parents had urged her to move away. But she didn't.

She saw Andy's fingers, the fingers that were like magic wands when he was fixing a car, stabbing hurriedly at the keys on his calculator. Poor calculator. If he prodded any harder, the thing would shatter. It wasn't that he was angry or anything. It was just that when he was studying, the easygoing, happy-go-lucky guy that she'd known all of her life transformed into a frantic genius. She could visibly see the cogs turning in his head as he scribbled his methodical workings out into his notebook.

What if he was the reason? What if the thought of leaving Scarborough, and inevitably Andy, too, scared the crap out of her? She didn't know why. Maybe because he was her rock; the person she went to when things weren't going quite the way she planned. But, whatever the reason, she was incapable of leaving until he did. And then she would go where he did.

Wow. Pathetic much?

She tried her best not to sound desperate when she contemplated things like this, but she couldn't help it. Still, no matter how much she thought about this stuff, she could never bring herself to admit that it was because they were more than friends. That's all they were: friends. And that's all she wanted them to be...right?

"Hey," she protested when a paper airplane hit her smack, bang between her eyes.

Andy was laughing loudly, holding his stomach. "Steph, you were on planet Zorg. I've been talking to you for ages but you couldn't hear me."

She sighed, realising that the hour of reading she had planned for herself had been a bit ambitious considering Andy was around. "Sorry," she muttered. "What were you saying?"

He shook his head. "Nothing. It doesn't matter. What's wrong?"

She shrugged. "Nothing's wrong."

He seemed to contemplate probing further before he let it go. "What do you think of Gabriella?"

"She seems nice," she murmured. "I think Uncle Troy made the right decision in hiring her. She seems great from what I've seen of her."

"I think that, too," Andy murmured. "Do you think..."

"What do I think?" Steph asked curiously.

"Do you think she and my dad have a chance?" he asked.

She chewed her lip as she contemplated her answer. She knew that his optimism extended towards his dad, always hoping that Troy would find the happiness he deserved. "I think," she began slowly, "that people only have a chance if they want one. You know me. I don't believe in fate. If they want it, they'll make it happen. Do you understand what I'm trying to say?"

Andy nodded slowly. "I just know that she's good for him."

Steph smiled. "I know you want what's best for Uncle Troy. I do, too. But, you're not going to force them together. Do you know why?"

Being the oblivious guy that he was, Andy's only response was a shrug.

She sighed. "You can't force them together because Uncle Troy is a stubborn mule and the more you push him into it, the less it's going to happen." She stood up, heading into the adjoined kitchen to get a drink. "Besides," she called out over the sound of the running tap, "even if they don't know they want each other, if the want is there, somewhere, it'll happen. Trust me. Sometimes you think you don't want something, but deep down, in the pit of your stomach, you know that you do." She looked through the open doorway to look at Andy, feeling tears well in her eyes. "And nothing can change that."


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Enjoy :D**

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><p><span>Chapter 6<span>

"So you want me to fix your truck?" Gabriella exclaimed, gesturing to the beat up Nissan Nivara in front of her. Rusting metal, dented bonnet and wheel arches, she suspected some damage to the chassis, and judging from the smoke snaking out from under the bonnet, something was terribly wrong there, too.

"Yes," Troy replied patiently.

Gabriella frowned as she tied her hair up with her bandana. "Why can't you fix it? I've been here for almost two weeks and you've, rather insultingly, only given me minor jobs. Anybody can change a fuel pump after they do it once."

Troy shrugged, giving her a smug grin. "Are you admitting defeat?"

"This isn't a competition. I just want equality. Now you've just gone from one extreme to the other," she cried.

"Well, I've asked you to fix it," he responded, patting the bonnet. "Ten years, I've had her. She hasn't died yet."

She sighed. "But why have you asked me to fix it?" she protested.

"Because I want you to," he murmured.

"But, why can't you fix it, goddamit?" she yelled.

"Why can't you fix it?" he asked calmly.

"Why are you answering me like this?" she asked, folding her arms.

He shrugged. "Why are you asking me questions like this?"

"I'm going to slap you in a minute," she hissed, pointing a warning finger at him.

He held his hands up. "Okay, okay, I promise I'll stop."

Gabriella sighed and turned away from him. "_Vete a la mierda, hijo de tu puta madre,_" she muttered. **(A/N: Kiss my ass, son of a bitch.)**

"What does that mean? I took German as a GCSE," he explained slowly.

She smiled slowly at him. "You took German? I tried that. It was too difficult for me so I had to transfer to French lessons instead. It's closer to Spanish than German is."

Troy smiled slightly. "So what did it mean?"

Gabriella shrugged. "I'm not going to tell you. Not if you can't speak Spanish. Where's the fun in that?"

Troy frowned. "Just fix the truck."

She mocked a salute. "Yes, sir," she muttered sarcastically.

Maybe she wasn't giving him a fair chance. He was nice enough. A good, well respected mechanic and obviously a good father. Things had eased between them; they weren't at logger heads quite like they had been. Now, he was annoying her at every opportunity. And when he annoyed her, he always had that stupid smug grin on his face. But, still, going from fixing minor electric problems or plumbing to fixing an entire truck? He just liked pissing her off.

Great.

Sharpay kept hounding her to find out his relationship status, but what was the point? Really? It's not like she wanted a relationship, especially not with him. Besides, she wasn't exactly girlfriend material. Her idea of a good time was curled up, in her pyjamas, with her duvet and having a _Harry Potter_ marathon and comparing the films with the books. That's not even mentioning her love for cars which inevitably left her looking less-than-attractive at the end of the day. And, she was on the wrong side of 35, had more complications than she liked to think about and she wasn't exactly Angelina Jolie, with those stupid pouty lips and size zero jeans. **(A/N: That's no offence to Angelina, I love her :D)**

She looked over her shoulder to see Troy opening the bonnet of an old Renault Cleo. They were the worst cars to fix. You had to take practically the entire engine out to replace anything. She couldn't help staring at how his faded white t-shirt boasted his eagle wings, like they always do. The thing was, despite how he annoyed her and his unconfirmed relationship status, she sort of liked him. She didn't know why. She hadn't admitted it to anybody else. But, she did.

Turning back to his truck, she sighed. No matter how much she liked him (_as a friend_, she chanted to herself), it's not like anything could happen anyway. Weren't all boss and employee relationships doomed from the start?

Getting to work, she popped the bonnet open and frowned as she leaned to have a closer look. How had this thing survived? He was obviously one hell of a mechanic to have kept it running for ten years. She reached for the dipstick and wiped the excess oil off on a rag she produced from the back pocket of her shorts. Checking the oil, it was well below minimum. How Troy had got to the garage without breaking down was a mystery. But, that indicated there was an oil leak somewhere. Mechanics didn't make mistakes by letting the oil level get so low.

"Hey, um, Gabriella, right?" a voice asked as she was replacing the dipstick.

Gabriella smiled as she straightened up to greet an African-American woman. She looked friendly enough in a soft yellow summer dress that contrasted perfectly with her dark skin tone. Her brown eyes were warm and bright and her smile was welcoming. "That's me. How can I help you?"

The woman held her hand out. "I'm Taylor. Troy's friend."

Gabriella frowned down at her oil-covered hand. "Best not. But, it's a pleasure to meet you anyway. Any friend of Troy's, is a friend of mine, it seems."

Taylor smiled. "We're a package deal. That's my husband, Chad." She gestured to a rather tall, muscular man. Gabriella admired his bright t-shirt that read _My Wife Chose This T-Shirt_, and she couldn't help giggling to herself at his wild brown curls that looked more untameable than hers. "They've known each other since nursery. They're inseparable. What is it that the kids call it these days? My daughter said it the other day..." She clicked her fingers, trying to trigger her memory. "A bromance. They're having a bromance."

"Not a bromance," Troy and Chad protested in unison.

Taylor shrugged. "I swear that they have radar to detect when someone accuses them of that."

"But it's true," she added in a whisper.

Gabriella laughed. "I like you, Taylor."

"I like you, too. How's your job so far? Sorry that I couldn't meet you sooner. I've been in York in court," she explained.

"Oh, so you're a lawyer?" Gabriella asked as she further inspected the engine of Troy's car.

"Yep. Which is why that idiot over there," she gestured to Chad, "will never screw up our marriage."

Gabriella smiled to herself. She'd only been talking to Taylor for all of two minutes but she already loved her. She hoped, whether her job was long lasting or otherwise, they'd be friends. She could tell that Taylor and Sharpay would get on like a house on fire.

"Well," she began slowly, standing up straight. "He's eased up a little, like everyone said he would. I mean, it's annoying more than anything now. Before, it was downright insulting. But, it's better than the twenty-odd guys who work down at Ford."

Taylor quirked an eyebrow. "That's it?"

"What do you mean?" Gabriella asked. Before Taylor could reply, she tugged at the _thing_ which was in the place of a fuel pump. It unravelled to reveal an old rugby shirt, now sufficiently covered in oil. "That... _pendejo_!" **(A/N: asshole)**

Ignoring Taylor and marching in the direction of Troy, she held the t-shirt at arm's length, muttering to herself in Spanish. With anger boiling her blood, she kept her eyes on the shirt and smacked right into Troy's chest.

"Ow," she complained as her wrist bent at an unnatural angle between them.

Troy gripped her upper arms to steady her and looked into her eyes. "Gabriella! Are you okay?"

"No, you idiot!" She waved the t-shirt in front of Troy's face. "Why was this where your fuel pump should be? No wonder I could hear you driving in that thing three streets away."

"I didn't have a spare fuel pump," he exclaimed.

"Give me a break, you own a garage!" she yelled.

"I forgot to replace it," he shot back. "But, that's not important. Brie, you need to get a spider out of my office."

Gabriella frowned. "Why can't Chad do it?"

"Because my best friend happens to be a wuss," Chad exclaimed. He was sat on the table, throwing a basketball up into the air and catching it again.

"I won't argue with that," she muttered.

"Please, Brie," he whispered.

The pleading tone in his voice, and his intense blue eyes almost made her cave. _Almost_ being the operative word. She shook her head. "No. You're making me fix that _thing_ and you put a t-shirt in for a fuel pump?"

"If you want a job, get rid of the damn spider," he yelled.

She rolled her eyes and pressed the oil-stained t-shirt into his chest as she walked past. "Fine," she muttered. She walked into the office and placed her hands on her hips as she looked around, trying to spot Mr. Eight-Legs. She turned around when Troy came into the office. She shrugged. "Where's the big threat?"

He pointed up at the far corner of the ceiling. "There! Up in that corner. Do you see it? Don't tell me you can't see it?"

Gabriella shrugged helplessly. "There's not a spider there." She sighed at his annoyed face. "But, if it means I get to keep my job, I'll take a closer look." She took the chair from behind the desk and set it in the corner. She climbed up and braced her hands against the wall to steady her balance. She looked over her shoulder at him. "If I fall and die, my parents will expect compensation."

"Of course they will," he muttered as she inspected the ceiling for any spiders.

"Aha. There you are, Mr. Eight Legs," she murmured as she reached up to gently coax the spider, much bigger than Incy Wincy who they'd met at the pub, into her cupped hands.

"Told you," he muttered. He watched her body movements: slow and gentle, trying not to hurt or scare the spider. He couldn't help but stare at her tanned, toned legs, exposed once again to the sun, heat, and oil. They weren't that long but that made sense. She wasn't that tall. It made her kind of cute, if he was honest with himself.

Realising that he was checking out his employee, he shook his head to himself and averted his eyes to stare at the black lid of his _Dell_ laptop. He had been _checking her out_. He'd thought that her height made her _cute_. He couldn't think that way. He didn't want to or _need_ to. Not to mention it was inappropriate. He'd never had a relationship in the workplace before.

Well, he'd only hired men before. But, the point still stood!

Gabriella slowly turned around on the chair, her hands gently cupping Mr. Eight Legs to her stomach. "Uhhhhh..." She looked unsurely at the floor. "Could you help me down? Only, I don't want to fall and squash Mr. Eight Legs."

"Do you name all of your spiders?" he asked as he approached the corner of the room and looked up at her.

"So what if I do?" she asked, looking down on him.

He shrugged. "Nothing. I was just curious, you know? Anyway, let me get you down." He stepped forward and somewhat awkwardly wrapped his arms around her, just below her bottom. He swallowed hard as he looked into her soft brown eyes. "You ready?"

She nodded. "I helped you by getting Mr. Eight Legs. Now it's your turn to help me by getting me down."

"Alright," he muttered. He slowly lifted her down, trying not to nudge her hands where he knew Mr. Eight Legs was sitting right now. He couldn't help but be conscious of her curves. He was well aware that she wasn't a teenager anymore. She probably thought she had unwanted and unflattering curves in unwanted and unflattering places. But, to him, in that first moment of intimate contact, that probably should've been innocent, she was perfect. Nothing was out of place. Nothing was too big or too little. He liked it.

He straightened up but kept his arms around her waist. His eyes were locked on hers; blue on brown. There was Troy and there was Gabriella. And there didn't seem to be anything else. For that moment, Troy forgot all of the reasons for him not to have a woman in his life.

"Ummm," Gabriella began awkwardly, breaking the silence. "Unless you want Mr. Eight Legs down your shirt, you might want to let me go."

Troy seemed to come to his senses and stumbled back a few paces rather clumsily, and then knocked into a filing cabinet.

Gabriella couldn't hide her smile. She lifted her hands. "I'll just take him out."

Troy straightened himself up as she approached the door. "Thank you. For taking him away. Thanks, Brie."

Gabriella frowned for a moment. "When did you start calling me that?"

"Calling you what?" Troy asked.

Gabriella shrugged. "You started calling me Brie. I wondered why."

Before he could respond, she headed outside. She crouched down outside and let Mr. Eight Legs run free. She turned to Chad and Taylor and smiled. "Has he always been afraid?"

Chad nodded slowly. "Pretty much." He grinned at Troy who had emerged from the office. "Hey, Gabriella, do you fancy hanging out tomorrow night? Maybe go for a meal?"

Gabriella's smile slipped and she shook her head. "No thank you. Not tomorrow. Maybe some other time."


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Well, here it is. I'm having some writer's block atm with chapter 5 :\ Today, I had my RS exam. It was tragically bad :\ Anyway, enjoy :D**

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><p><span>Chapter 7<span>

Switching her alarm clock off, Gabriella pulled her covers further over her head. It wasn't out of tiredness or grumpiness. It was more out of ignorance. If she could stay in bed, if she could just fall back to sleep, then there would be no need for her to acknowledge what day it was. If she could just stay in bed all day, and not go into work, she might be able to cope. That way, when she inevitably started crying, nobody would be there to ask why.

But, then again, nobody would comfort her, either.

Dragging her feet out of bed, she wandered through to the kitchen of her flat in just a pair of shorts and a tank top. She stood there, listening to the workings of the kettle as it boiled the water, ready for her coffee. She leaned forward to press her forehead against the cupboard door. It was at this time that she missed Addie more than ever. Addie had never had expectations of her on this day. Where everybody else either expected her to still be distraught, others expected her to have moved on. After all, it'd been twelve years. But, to Addie, that didn't matter. All Addie saw was her older sister who was upset. She didn't expect Gabriella to be moving on with her life at the soonest opportunity. She just wanted to make everything better.

Alejandro, however, stayed away from Gabriella on this particular day of the year. It wasn't out of ignorance. Alejandro had never, throughout his marriage and fatherhood, mastered the art of playing Florence Nightingale. When anybody was upset, he always felt helpless. And it showed because it was guaranteed that he'd put his foot in his mouth and make it worse.

Without Addie, she had nobody. Nobody had ever been able to make her feel like it didn't matter if she cried. If she wanted to spend the day screaming, Addie would sit there patiently and only talk when Gabriella was finished. If Gabriella wanted to sleep, Addie would be there when she woke up. It didn't matter.

The landline phone started ringing but Gabriella stood still, determined to let her machine pick it up. You didn't have to be a rocket scientist to know that it would either be Sharpay or Maria. It was a fifty-fifty chance as to which one it would be.

"_Gabriella,_" Maria began quietly. So it was her mother this year. "_How are you doing today, Sweetheart? Maybe you shouldn't go into work today._"

Wrong. If Gabriella didn't go into work, who knows what she'd do. If she went to work, she could work with cars, hopefully have something to occupy her mind, and things would make sense for her.

"_Sweetheart, I know you're there. Why don't you pick up and talk to me? I think Sharpay will probably drop by the garage sometime today to check up on you,_" her mother continued.

Gabriella rolled her eyes. She was approaching forty and people acted like she was a little girl!

"_Please call us later, Gabi. We just need to know that you're okay. Well, I'd better go. Your father needs his morning coffee. We love you, darling_," she finished quietly before the machine beeped, signalling the end of the message.

They say that things get easier with time. No. Not for Gabriella. For Gabriella, it still sucked.

* * *

><p>"How's Gabriella getting on?" Jack asked Troy conversationally.<p>

Jamie rolled his eyes, leaning back on two legs of his chair. "Please! She's slotted in just fine. I think she should have the official title of 'Troy's Personal Rescuer'."

Troy glared at his brother. "It is really not like that. There's nothing going on between us. I just asked her to get a spider from my office. Jamie, we're not even friends. We don't know anything about each other."

"Many would interpret that as you want to be more than friends but you're stubborn as fuck and your stupid fear of women and your ego gets in the way," Jamie exclaimed.

Troy frowned. "Three things. Number one," he began counting on his fingers, "don't swear here. I like my customers to think we're friendly people. Number two, I'm not afraid of women. I just avoid drama. And number three, my ego is fine."

Jack laughed at his two sons. "Troy, calm down. The more riled you get, the more he's going to pester you. Have you not learnt after forty years?"

Troy groaned, throwing his head back. "Please don't say that word. You know I hate being reminded of how old I am."

"Is that a grey hair?" Jamie asked jokingly.

Troy reached out and ruffled his brother's hair. "What about _your_ grey hairs, Old Man?"

Jamie pushed his brother away. "My hair is just fine."

Jack rolled his eyes. "How's Andy about Gabriella?"

Troy shrugged. "They get on really well."

Before he could continue, Gabriella strolled in and threw her bag aside. She instantly began tying her hair up, like she always did. Troy couldn't believe it. She looked awful. Her eyes were red, bags were under her eyes and she looked rather pale.

She stepped closer and fiddled with the bandana around her wrist as she spoke. "What needs doing today?" she whispered.

Troy stepped forward and touched her shoulder, straining to get eye contact. "Brie, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," she snapped as she shrugged him off. "What needs doing?"

Troy sighed and didn't press the matter. He gestured to his truck that was in the workshop once again. "You can continue fixing that, if you like."

Gabriella nodded and, without another word, got to work.

"Is she okay?" Jamie asked slowly.

Troy glared at him. "How does Sarah live with you?" He turned back to see Gabriella already working on his car. "She's the furthest thing from okay."

* * *

><p>"Talk to her," Troy muttered.<p>

"Hell no. She's scaring me," Jamie muttered. "I vote Andy should do it, he's the youngest."

Andy rolled his eyes. "You can't play that card. Not at the minute. You're both wimps. Besides, Dad's the boss, I vote he should do it."

Troy sighed. "This is ridiculous."

Jamie and Andy both looked at the oldest Bolton man. "You've only just realised that?" Andy hissed. "We've been stood here for ten minutes, giving reasons why someone else should be the one to approach her. Just do it, Dad. You're the one closest to her."

"We're not going out," Troy protested.

Jamie and Andy exchanged glances. "Um," Jamie began, "Andy didn't mention anything about going out."

Troy frowned. "Okay. You win." He strode over to his truck and leaned against the driver's door. "Hey, Brie?" he murmured.

"Yeah?" she asked, still working in the engine of the car.

He sighed and walked around to her. Upon impulse, and not really thinking of the consequences, her gripped her shoulder and forced her to face him. "Talk to me."

She shook her head. "I'm fine."

"No, you're a really crap liar. Tell me what's wrong. You've been working non-stop, you haven't had lunch, you haven't complained about me at all today, and you're crying," he pointed out.

She quickly wiped her cheeks but then shook her head. "You can't prove that."

He frowned. "Brie, take a break, eat something. I don't know what's wrong."

She suddenly turned to him, her eyes blazing in anger. "_Exactly_. Nobody knows what's wrong. Nobody can tell me that they know what I'm going through."

He touched her arm. "I could try if you'd tell me."

She snatched her arm from his touch. "Stop it. Stop acting like you care for me. All you care about is making sure that I, the mere woman mechanic, will fix your precious truck properly."

Troy was about to speak again when a blonde and an African American guy strolled in. "Gabriella," the blonde spoke quietly.

With tears in her eyes, Gabriella looked down at the ground. "Troy, these are my best friends: Sharpay and Zeke. Zeke owns Baylor's Bakers round the corner. Shar, Zeke, this is Troy, my boss."

On a normal day, in normal circumstances, it would've been expected of Troy, Sharpay and Zeke to shake hands and to greet each other. However, it wasn't a normal day. So they all settled to nod briefly at each other before turning back to Gabriella who was staring at her left wrist, twisting the bandana around and around.

"We got you some flowers," Sharpay finally offered, breaking the silence. She gestured to the extravagant bunch of tulips in Zeke's arms. "I thought we could visit her together."

Gabriella shook her head. "No thanks. I have a truck to fix."

Troy touched her arm before she could turn away. "Go. My truck can wait until you feel better."

She glared at him. "You don't know me. Maybe I want to fix your truck. Right now, today, I'll do anything if it means I can think about anything else for just two seconds." She turned to Sharpay and Zeke. "Maybe you two should go alone."

Troy sighed. "Brie, why don't you go home?"

She looked at him as if he'd grown two heads. "And why would I do that? Why would I go home and be by myself? I told you, I'm much happier working with cars and occupying my mind. Leave me alone."

Before any of them could respond, she turned back to Troy's truck. He led Zeke and Sharpay to the doorway and glanced at Gabriella. "What's wrong with her?"

Zeke shook his head slowly. "You can't ask us that. If she wants you to know, she'll tell you. Just let her be for today. She'll be better tomorrow."

Sharpay nodded in agreement. "It's just this one day a year, sadly. I wish it didn't have to be this way. I mean, there are criminals getting away with what they've done but Gabriella feels like this every year. If there is a God, his plan is fucked up."

Zeke placed a hand on Troy's shoulder. "Keep an eye on her, okay?"

* * *

><p>Having an addiction is never a nice feeling. Whether it's to a person who is good for you or whether it's to an illegal drug that, despite how good it makes you feel in the moment, will kill you, there is not one human being on the planet who will enjoy feeling that want, that dependence, that incurable <em>need<em>. An addiction is, by definition, the fact or condition of being addicted to a particular substance or activity. But, it's more than that. It's that voice in the back of your head urging you to do something. And sometimes, you're not strong enough to fight it and you succumb to the addiction.

But, whatever the official definition of 'addiction' was, it didn't matter. Because the only person an addiction affected was the individual. At least, that's what a leaflet had told Gabriella over ten years ago. But, it was lies. That wasn't true. You had to be a selfish bastard to believe that crap. No. Gabriella believed that an addiction affected everybody around that individual. It breaks their heart, it frustrates them, it angers them. An addiction can cause your father, who was always reluctant to show emotion, to weep in your arms.

Gabriella, lying on her settee in her living room, reached for a cushion and pulled it over her face. She knew that there were two possible outcomes to that action: either she'd suffocate and die or the cushion would stop the burning in the back of her throat.

She wasn't suicidal. She didn't want to die. She wanted to forget. But, at the same time, she didn't want to succumb to her addiction. She didn't want to see Greg cry for his daughter again. She didn't want Addie to worry about her. After all, she had enough to worry about. But, she didn't want Troy judging her. Because that's what an addiction causes, isn't it? Judgement. While we live in a naturally judgemental society, it seems even worse when the word 'addiction' is used. If someone's a drug addict, they _must_ want to knife you. If someone's addicted to sex, they _must_ have an STD. If someone's addicted to alcohol...well, then they _must_ be depressed and turn violent when drunk.

Gabriella knew. She'd heard it all before. At least, about the alcohol thing. But, despite her efforts, despite thinking of how much it would break her family's hearts, she couldn't help it. The burning in the back of her throat was too much. She was in a losing battle.

Getting up from the couch in her work clothes, she grabbed her keys, and left her apartment building. She stumbled, mostly, with her vision blurred with tears, to the nearest pub, _The Duchess_, the one where she met with Troy, Andy and Steph that one time. She sat down on a bar stool and paused. Was it worth it? Were things _that_ bad?

The barman walked over and gave her a friendly smile. "What can I get you, Sweetheart?"

Ignoring his demeaning name for her, she thought, _Yes. It was worth it. I'll forget. Things are that bad_.

She looked him square in the eye and said, "A pint of lager, please."


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Here it is! Apologies in advance if the drunkenness and seduction is really, really...crap (for the want of a better word...) They're really not my areas of expertise.**

**Now...I proposition for you all. On Friday, I will be celebrating the end of my exams (woohoo - my blood pressure will now be returning to healthy levels...) So, if you guys are really good to me, and if you really want me to, I will upload an extra chapter on Friday. Well, make that Saturday. I'm going out Friday night as a celebration and I'm not sure what time I'll be in. If you want, I'll give you an extra chapter on Saturday :)**

**Enjoy :)**

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><p><span>Chapter 8<span>

"I'm off, Dad," Andy called. He paused. No reply. "Dad! I'm leaving."

"I heard you the first time," Troy exclaimed as he appeared with a pan of spaghetti. "Steph, you won't be mean to me, try this. It's a new recipe. Please?" He held a wooden spoon out for her.

She laughed and tasted it. "Wow. I'm impressed, Uncle Troy. What got you cooking?"

Troy glanced at Andy who was covering his eyes. "Boredom, really. I don't have anything to do tonight."

"I said," Andy muttered in exasperation, "you could come with us."

"And watch you be all googly eyes with each other, no thanks," Troy exclaimed.

"Uncle Troy," Steph began.

"Dad, we're not going out," Andy exclaimed.

Eager to break the awkward silence, Steph said, "Andy said Gabriella wasn't too well today. Is she okay?"

Troy shrugged. "Who knows? I don't know what was wrong with her, she wasn't any better when she went home, I just hope she's cooled off before tomorrow."

Steph nodded. "Well, tell her I hope she gets better."

Troy smiled. "Will do. Now go, the pair of you."

"Finally," Andy exclaimed. "I don't know what time I'll be home. Don't wake up for me, okay?"

"Got your keys?" Steph asked.

Andy patted his pockets and dashed over to pick his keys up from the coffee table. "Now I do."

Troy rolled his eyes. His son was oblivious as to how much he needed Steph in his life.

Steph shook her head to herself. "What would you do without me?"

"Get locked out, obviously," he joked. "See you later, Dad." He led Steph out of the block of flats and out into Scarborough town, crisp with the ocean air. "Where do you want to go?"

She rolled her eyes to herself. He asked the same thing whenever they went out together. "I'm surprised you even asked."

Andy laughed and let her loop her arm through his. "Ah, Steph. _The Duchess_ is our place. We could own somewhere similar years from now, you know."

"You and me?" Steph asked incredulously. "You mean the marine biologist obsessed with starfish and a mechanic working in his dad's garage who is weirdly obsessed with maths?"

Andy laughed. "Why not? We'd make a good team, wouldn't we?"

"I'm not denying that," she protested as Andy held the door open. She stepped through into the dim bar area of _The Duchess_. "But, come on. We don't know how to run a pub together."

He winked at her. "It's called an adventure, Steph, lighten up." He frowned and tilted his head to see behind her. "Is that...Is that Gabriella?"

They stepped forward until they stood each side of her. A glass of wine was in one hand and her chin was resting in the palm of her other. "Oh, Andy," she slurred. "You're here."

He glanced at Steph. "Yeah. I'm here. Steph's with me."

Gabriella turned and forced a smile. "Hey. I remember you. You're the nice lady who told me that Troy would loosen up. And he did." She erupted into giggles and downed her glass of wine. She waved the empty glass at the bartender.

Steph nodded slowly. "Well, I know my Uncle Troy and I'm glad you've settled in. Gabriella!" She took the new glass of wine out of her hand.

Gabriella attempted to reach for it but her vision blurred and she grasped thin air. "Steph," she pointed a wavering finger at the younger woman, "I may be drunk, but I'm older and therefore wiser."

Andy snorted. "Right now, Gabriella, we're both a hundred times smarter than you. Don't you think?" He sighed and sat down next to his dad's employee. "What brought this on?"

Gabriella's smile slipped and she squinted to see him. "You don't care," she muttered, turning away. "I need the wine," she cried, reaching for the glass in Steph's hand.

Steph moved the glass away. "Alright, executive decision: we're taking you home."

Gabriella frowned. "I don't want to," she whined. "My home is lonely and sad. I'm all by myself. Steph, listen to me," she slung her arm around Steph's neck, "life is shit. Life is a joke. You get to a point when you realise that God is a cruel person and we're all puppets on a string." She shrugged half heartedly. "Trust me on that one."

Steph sighed. She looked at Andy. "You're positive that your dad doesn't have any plans?"

Andy frowned as he took Gabriella's hands to stop her reaching for the wine. "No. I think he'll be watching _Top Gear_ all evening."

Steph nodded. "Right. Well, we'll take her back to your place. We can't leave her like this, can we? If we take her to her place, she'll just drink herself to death."

"That's not a bad idea," Gabriella slurred.

Andy sighed. "Alright, Gabriella, you're coming with us." He waved the barman over. "Has she paid?"

The barman shook his head. "Afraid not."

Andy sighed and took his wallet out. "How much?"

"Twenty five pounds, thirty pence."

"This isn't what I imagined when I pictured a night on the town with my best friend," he muttered as he threw a few notes on the bar. "Keep the change." He slid the wallet into his back pocket and stood up. He brought Gabriella's arm around his shoulders and got her to her feet, wrapping an arm around her waist. "Come on, Gabriella. Let's get you home."

Gabriella frowned. "I don't want to." Tears sprang into her eyes, dripping down her cheeks. "Why can't you leave me alone?"

Steph took her other arm. "Listen, Gabriella, Uncle Troy will be there."

Gabriella sniffed. "Troy? Really?"

Steph shrugged. "Yeah. He'll be there."

Her eyes seemed to light up a little bit. "Oh. Well, maybe I should go there," she mumbled into Andy's shoulder.

"Dad," Andy called, "we need your help."

Troy rushed into the hallway and frowned. "Gabriella?"

She giggled and threw herself into his arms. He caught her and helped her catch her balance. "Troy," she murmured, looking into his eyes, "you smell nice. Like my mother's cooking."

"Andy, why is she here?" Troy asked sternly and Gabriella pressed her cheek to Troy's chest.

Steph sighed. "We found her at the pub. We didn't know what to do."

"Gabriella," Troy said sternly as he held her at arm's length. She swayed a little bit but then seemed to focus on him. "Why would you do this? Why would you drink?"

She looked away. "You don't understand," she spat. "You don't care about me. You only care that I'm able to work tomorrow."

Troy frowned. "Andy, I think you should walk Steph home."

"Well, I can walk home by myself," Steph offered.

Troy shook his head, still staring at Gabriella. "No, Andy will walk you home. Won't you, Andy?" He turned away from Gabriella to glare at his son.

"Yeah," Andy muttered. "Come on, Steph."

Once they had left, Troy turned back to Gabriella. She was swaying from side to side, humming to herself. "Gabriella?"

She turned to him. "Troy?" she giggled.

He sighed and took her hand, taking her to his bedroom. He sat her down and paced in front of her. He knelt down in front of her, touching her hand. "I don't get it. You're not a drinker, I can tell. Why would you do this?"

Instead of answering, Gabriella crawled up the bed and buried her face into Troy's pillows.

"Gabriella," he called as he sat down next to her on the bed. "Why won't you talk to me?"

She rolled over to face him, trying to focus her vision on him. "Because that's boring," she muttered. She reached out for his shirt and brought him closer. "Let our bodies do the talking."

Troy's eyes widened and he stumbled off of the bed, out of her grasp. It was bad enough that he was attracted to her, being tempted to take advantage of her when she was at her most vulnerable time would be evil. "No," he said sternly. "You don't want that."

"How do you know?" she mumbled.

"Because I do," he said softly. Not exactly a convincing reason but it had worked miracles when Andy had been growing up. Seeing Gabriella like this made him feel like an inexperienced parent all over again. "Get some sleep."

Her eyes fluttered closed and a moment later, quiet, breathy murmurs filled the room.

* * *

><p>Gabriella groaned as she stumbled out of the bedroom, clutching her head. She squinted around at the unfamiliar living room. "Where am I?"<p>

Troy waved over from the kitchen. "Good morning, Sleeping Beauty."

Gabriella groaned as she approached him and sat on one of the stools at the island counter. "Please don't shout at me."

Troy smiled to himself as he stood up and switched the kettle on. "Rough night?"

"What did I do last night?" she whispered.

"Well," he began conversationally, "you tried to seduce me."

Gabriella rubbed her eyes. "Oh my God. I'm sorry, I don't remember." She faltered. "Did we...I mean, we didn't..."

Troy tried not laugh.

"It's not funny," she whined. "My head feels like it's about to explode and I don't remember anything from last night."

Troy poured her a cup of black coffee. "In answer to your question, no we didn't do anything. I slept on the couch." He slid the coffee towards her. "Now drink up. It'll make you feel better. Trust me: Andy says that black coffee is a miracle if you're hungover."

Gabriella slid off of the stool and began opening random cupboards. "No thanks. Have you got something stronger?"

"What?" Troy muttered.

She sighed and turned to him. "Lager, beer, vodka...you're two men living together. You can't tell me you don't have any alcohol."

Troy shook his head and stepped towards her. "Brie, this is the hangover talking. You don't want or need any more alcohol than you had last night. It won't do anything. If anything, you'll poison yourself and die."

"Then let me," she yelled, instantly regretting it. She leant against the counter, pressing her palm to her forehead. "You don't care," she muttered.

Troy stepped towards her and cupped her cheeks in his large, capable hands, forcing her to meet his gaze. "Don't you _dare_ say that," he whispered. "I care about you more than I'm willing to admit."

She swallowed, hard, suddenly conscious of how close they were to each other. She'd tried to seduce him last night. Well, a drunk person's actions and words were a sober person's thoughts.

So what did that mean, exactly? Did she actually _want_ to sleep with him?

No!

She twisted out of his arms and stood on the opposite side of the kitchen. "Where's the alcohol?"

Troy knew all about hangovers. He'd had his fair share and he could still remember Andy's very first hangover. It was like death. Your brain became a marching band and you were willing to do anything to make it stop. After trial and error, he had discovered that a few aspirin and a few mugs of black coffee cured it enough to go about the day just fine. But alcohol? That was a recipe for disaster. After the amount that Gabriella had last night, she was on her way to poisoning herself.

Maybe all of the Spanish curse words and the feminist exterior was exactly that: an exterior. A shield. A protector. What if she was much weaker than she wanted to admit? What if she appeared so strong and capable so that people wouldn't get close? Troy, of all people, knew that when people were close to you, you were vulnerable.

"Gabriella," he said sternly, "stop it. You don't need that stuff."

She glared at him. "How do you know? You don't know anything about me."

"Then tell me," he exclaimed.

"I'm an alcoholic," she cried. Tears streamed down her cheeks and she had to grip the counter behind her to stop her knees from giving way. "Is that what you want to know?" She looked at him then, before having to avert her gaze. "I'm an alcoholic."

"Hey," Andy greeted. "Gabriella, it's nice to see you awake."

Before Gabriella could respond, Troy tossed a set of keys at Andy. "Sorry, Son, you'll have to open the shop yourself."

Andy frowned. "Why? I have to study for a seminar."

Troy glared. "Well, do that at the garage. Look, Gabriella's not very well and I need to keep an eye on her."

Andy glanced at Gabriella who was crying silently and looking intently at her hands, that she was compulsively ringing together. "But, Dad, I don't know what to do. I fix cars, sure, but I don't know how to run that place."

Troy sighed. "Look, your Uncle Jamie will be in at about ten, call your Grandpa and ask him to help. Jamie knows what needs doing on the cars that are already there. All you have to do is cope with any calls you have today or walk-ins. Basically, tell them that I'll get back to them. If someone's broken down, ask Jamie to go, okay?"

Andy rolled his eyes but nodded. "Sure. Get well soon, Gabriella."

Once Andy had shut the door, Troy stepped forward and, without thinking, brought her into his arms. Instead of her pushing him away like he'd expected, she clung to him as if her life depended on it. Troy considered that; she'd wanted to keep drinking. She'd yelled at him, claiming that she would've quite happily drunk herself to death. So, in that respect, she literally was clinging to him for dear life.

He didn't know what to say. Saying 'its okay' seemed futile somehow. Then again, not saying it seemed even worse. What did you say when your newest employee, and, coincidentally, the woman you felt some sort of attraction for, told you that she was an alcoholic? How do you respond to that? Troy had mostly lived a sheltered life. Except for the dramas surrounding Andy's mother, Troy lived one day to the next. He'd never done drugs, he'd never smoked a cigarette and he'd only been in trouble with the police once, in a different life.

So he'd drunk before. He'd woken up in his bed, still clothed, wondering how the hell he'd made it home. He'd been sat in one of his A Level classes, feeling as if he was on the brink of death with hangovers after a party on a school night. But, he'd never been an alcoholic and he'd never met an alcoholic.

It's what society does to you, he realised. He'd expected alcoholics to be people who were violent, who wore scruffy clothes, and always smelt of alcohol. Namely, they were obvious, like they had 'alcoholic' tattooed on their forehead. But Gabriella...she was down to earth and hardworking. She made him smile when she was angry because she'd mutter in Spanish as if she _expected_ him to know what she was saying. True, she wasn't an open book but he hadn't thought anything of it. He wasn't exactly inviting her to know his life story.

Gabriella was a lot of things. But, alcoholic didn't spring to mind.

He pulled back from their embrace and looked into her eyes. Her chocolate orbs were always so bright and warm. But, today, with dark circles beneath her eyes, tear stains on her cheeks, and her eyes were red and puffy, she looked like a little girl, who was woken up by a nightmare.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked before he sighed. What kind of question was that? How creative.

She shrugged. "It's not something I rush to put on job applications." She stepped around him and sat on one of the island stools. "I'm so sorry that you had to find out _this_ way. I'm fired, aren't I?"

Troy frowned as he sat down opposite her. "Hold up. Where did that come from? I didn't say those words, you did. Gabriella, I didn't want to fire you last night and I don't want to fire you now. You have a problem. So what? Everybody does. I just want to help."

She looked across at him. "It's not easy to know an alcoholic, you know. As we're talking right now, it's taking all of my power not to rip open those cupboards in search of the alcohol I know you have."

"How do you know I have some?" Troy asked curiously.

"Maybe I'm stereotyping," she muttered. "Two men living together...I kind of figured..."

Troy sighed. "Why don't you go and take a bath or something and calm down? Then, when you come out, if you want, we can talk."

* * *

><p>"So, how's Gabriella?" Steph asked conversationally. She pretended to be fixated with her textbook, but in reality, she was just avoiding Jamie's eyes. She didn't know why, but he seemed angry. And he was unintentionally directing it at her.<p>

Andy shrugged. "I don't know," he snapped. "Dad said she wasn't well and forced me to open this place for him." He angrily flipped the page and she was surprised the book didn't tear in two.

She sighed. "You can't blame him. He's taking care of her. You're the one who wants them together."

He shrugged. "Yeah, well, it's all very well when it isn't preventing me from getting my degree."

Steph looked at him incredulously. "Uncle Troy's not preventing you from getting your degree. He's helping her. She needs him. It's not like he's asked you to skip a lecture, is it?"

He rolled his eyes. "I knew you'd side with him."

"I'm siding with him because you're being a drama queen and making a mountain out of a molehill," she exclaimed. "You've been in a bad mood ever since I got here and it's not right."

He frowned at her. "So she had a hangover, so what? We've all had hangovers. But we get up, take some aspirin and move on."

Steph sighed. "You don't know that that's the only thing wrong, do you? You don't know what caused her to get drunk last night. It must be serious because Uncle Troy never takes a day off." Before he could respond, she was already talking again. "So, what's this really about? You don't judge people, you think the world of Gabriella, and, right now, you've been studying maths for about forty five minutes. You're always happy when you're studying maths."

Andy threw his pen down. "Damn you. You know me too well."

She reached for his hand. "So what is it? Tell me."

He shrugged. "I don't know. It's weird. Dad's never blown me off for a woman before. It kind of hurt a little bit."

Steph shook her head. "Andy, Uncle Troy would never blow you off and he hasn't blown you off. He's helping Gabriella. Isn't that the important thing?"

He sighed and leaned closer to her. "I'm so sorry Steph. You're always the one who clears my head when nobody else can."

She shrugged modestly. "It's no big deal. Everybody needs some space from their family, you know." She realised how close they were. Their noses were almost touching and she could feel his gentle breaths whisper against her skin. It wasn't the first time they'd been that close. They'd been friends their whole lives. They'd whispered in class, it was a common occurrence for Steph to fall asleep on his shoulder whilst watching a film, and she'd never been afraid of him before. But, now, she was terrified. She was terrified of where it might lead, what he might do, and how it might end.

"Even you?"

"Even me," she whispered.

Before anything could happen, a rather loud "Gabriella!" rang through the garage.

Andy and Steph sprang apart. Andy leapt up to greet the people and Steph was determined to look anywhere but at Andy.

A confident blonde strode towards him. "Hi, I'm Sharpay. This is my husband, Zeke." She gestured to the African-American man beside her. "We're friends of Gabriella. Where is she?"

Andy extended his hand. "I'm Andy, Troy's son. Gabriella is still at my dad's flat. He was pretty worried and wouldn't let her go. She seemed in a pretty bad state when I left."

Zeke frowned. "Why is she at Troy's place?"

Andy glanced at Steph. "We found her drunk last night. We took her back to my dad's because we didn't know what else to do."

Sharpay stepped forward. "She was drunk?" she asked slowly.

"Like a fish," Andy explained.

Before she could respond, Zeke stepped forward to touch her shoulder. "Pay, don't worry, she's with Troy. She's fine."

"Where do you live?" she asked quietly.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: As promised :D No more exams :D Yay! Woohoo :D And now...university in September. I'm not scared. At all...**

**Anyway, enjoy :D**

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 9<span>

Troy watched Gabriella leave and he ran a hand over his face. What did he do? Seriously? What _could_ he do? At the suggestion of a bath, Gabriella seemed to realise what she was doing and left. Why? He didn't know. All he'd wanted to do was to help. Maybe that's what drove her away. Maybe it scared her.

He still stared out of the window, looking down at the Scarborough people, milling about. The shops were only _just_ opening and so there wasn't the calm buzz that usually hung around Scarborough's town centre.

Maybe he should've run after her. After all, the chances of her drinking the second she got home were too high to contemplate. It was too painful to think about how she might be killing herself. But what could he do? If he pressed too hard, he could be the reason for her to actually go through with it.

He collapsed onto the nearby armchair and closed his eyes. This was what he'd tried to avoid the whole of Andy's life. He hadn't wanted complications and he hadn't wanted drama. Not just for Andy's sake but for Troy's own selfish _fear_. The sheer thought of things messing up his ever-faithful routine scared the crap out of him. He liked the way his life was at the moment and he didn't want anything messing it up.

So was Gabriella worth all of this? Was it worth having Gabriella in his life if he had to cope with drama this huge? After all, there was always going to the chance that she'd relapse. This could be the first time of a lot of relapses that he'd have to deal with.

Was she worth it?

Hell yeah. So she had baggage; so did he. But, he didn't care about that. All he knew was that he wanted her in his life. She made him smile. She made him happy. She made him feel alive. Scratch that. She made him feel things he'd sworn never to feel again. All of Andy's life, Troy had concentrated on being a good father and protecting his son; the result of that being that he'd never had a long-term relationship since Andy's mother. He'd mostly just had meaningless flings. But, Andy was now grown up and could take care of himself. So Troy really had no reason to hold back anymore.

He wanted her in his life. He just wanted..._her_. If that meant that he had to cope with a few relapses when her demons were more ferocious than ever, he'd be there for her. He wanted her to be okay. He wanted her to be strong enough to fight those demons. In fact, a selfish part of him wanted to be the reason that she was strong.

He shook his head to himself as he stood up and grabbed his mobile, ringing the garage.

Andy picked up on the second ring. "Bolton's garage, Andy speaking."

"Andy, it's me. I need you to check the employee records and tell me Gabriella's address," Troy instructed as he grabbed his keys.

"Why?" Andy asked as there was some rustling in the background.

"She's left. I don't know where she's gone but I'm pretty sure she's not gone to her parents' place." 'Pretty sure' didn't cut it. He was certain. From what he'd witnessed that morning, she wasn't going to be very willing to admit to her family that she'd relapsed into her addiction. So there were really only two places she would've gone: either her home or one of the pubs in Scarborough; and for such a small town, there was quite a variety to choose from. So from those two options, he was praying that she was at home and that she didn't possess any alcohol.

Andy recited her address as Troy quickly scribbled it on the edge of the local paper. He tore the corner off as Andy spoke. "But Sharpay and Zeke are on their way over, to make sure she's okay."

Troy sighed as he locked his door. "Well, when they find the flat empty, they'll either go back to the garage or call Gabriella. Honestly, Andy, Sharpay and Zeke are not my priorities right now."

Andy paused. "You've never done this before, Dad. You're finally taking care of someone other than me."

Troy frowned. His son didn't sound like he was teasing Troy. Then again, he didn't sound all that upset, either. If anything, he sounded glad. After all, Andy had grown up seeing Troy concentrating on building a safe environment for him. It was probably nice for Andy to see his dad thinking about something else for a change.

Instead of responding like he should've, Troy simply said, "Get back to work," before hanging up.

* * *

><p>Gabriella opened the door, dressed in an oversized Billy Joel tour shirt. She sighed when she saw Troy standing in the corridor of her block of flats and she averted her eyes. "Why did you follow me?<p>

He shrugged. "I want to help and I wasn't sure what you were planning on doing after you left."

She opened the door wider and gestured for him to come inside. "Actually," she began as she headed to the kitchen, "I've just been listening to some music. It calms me down."

"Billy Joel?" Troy asked quietly as she switched the kettle on.

She nodded as she turned to him. "Long-time fan. My brother, Alejandro, played 'Leningrad' for me when my family had almost given up trying to get me to get help for my...problem. So every time I think about alcohol, I listen to it. But, I guess I was a little late this time." She turned back to the kettle, pouring two cups of coffee.

She set both of the cups on the kitchen table and she sat opposite Troy. He ran his finger around the rim of his cup. "Why did you leave?"

She shrugged. "My boss just found out that I'm an alcoholic. I don't want you to judge me."

He frowned. "Why would I judge you?"

"I can think of one good reason," she whispered.

He shrugged. "I don't know what made you become an alcoholic but I know that you're not a bad person. Let me help."

She nodded slowly. "Okay," she whispered.

"How do you feel?" he asked quietly.

She frowned and sipped her coffee. "Helpless. You don't know how it feels, you know."

"Tell me," Troy whispered.

Gabriella sighed, fiddling with the hem of her shirt. What did she have to lose? Her boss had let her pass out on his bed, drunk, after she'd apparently tried to seduce him. It wasn't like she had a great deal of pride and dignity left. A lot of people would've thrown her out and fired her. The least she could do was try to help him to understand.

She took a deep breath. "You know when you're a kid and your mum puts a box of sweets on the table? And she tells you not to have any. And when she leaves, you have one. But you say that'll be it. You'll have one and then you'll stop. And before you know it, you've eaten half the box." She looked at him, tears trickling down her cheeks. "That's what it's like. Last night, I did it on purpose. I wanted to forget. But, other times, I've said to myself that I'd have one glass of wine or one pint of lager. It doesn't work like that. Once I start, I can't stop until I've passed out and I wake up."

"Is it always there? The temptation, I mean," he murmured.

"_Always_," she murmured. "Remember the night at _The Duchess_? It was torture. There's always a voice, urging me to skip work to go to the pub or to pick up a bottle of wine when I'm shopping. It's always there." Tears came faster then and a rather embarrassing sob left her throat. She started taking deep breaths, trying to calm down enough to talk.

Troy moved to the chair closest to her and touched her hand. "Hey, look at me. Brie, look at me."

She reluctantly looked at him. "What?"

"I'm not judging you. You're not any less of a woman than I thought yesterday. Do you believe me?" he whispered.

She shrugged. "I guess so." She sighed and concentrated on tugging at the loose cotton thread on her shirt. "You know, it's a constant battle against the voices. They tell you that it's okay to drink, that it'll make everything better. Sometimes I'm strong enough to know that it's wrong. I was that strong for ten years. But, other times, like yesterday, I'm too weak and I can't fight them anymore."

Troy paused on that. He couldn't comprehend feeling so dependent on something, on anything. He couldn't relate to her. But, he could try to help her. It wasn't to do with her being his employee. In fact, he hadn't thought about the garage since he'd phoned Andy. This was different. Troy was helping her because he wanted to, not out of obligation. Troy was helping her because they were friends, whether she was fully aware of it or not. He was determined to help her because, against his better judgement, he cared for her.

Emerging from his thoughts, Troy rose and held his hand out expectantly. "I'm going to make you better."

Gabriella rolled her eyes and didn't take his hand. "Troy, this isn't some kind of virus I can take a few doses of penicillin for and get better. I'm always going to be this way; I'm always going to be fighting my demons because that's what an addiction is. It's demons, taunting you, preying on your weakest moments."

Troy sighed and crouched down in front of her, like you would in front of a small child. "I'm not going to cure you. Maybe 'make you better' wasn't the right choice of words. I'm no therapist or psychiatrist. I never have been. But, I want to help you get stronger. Can I do that?"

Gabriella sighed. "Well, it can't get any worse, can it?"

Troy pulled them both to their feet and brought her into his arms, holding her tightly. Unlike the first time he'd held her, in his office after she'd 'saved' him, he wasn't appreciating her body. He wasn't memorising every perfect curve in every perfect place. He didn't even have to try not to get turned on by her. This was because all he could think about was her being alright, being strong enough to fight the temptation.

He pulled back and brushed some of her dishevelled curls from her face. "Can you promise me something?"

"I can try," she whispered.

He smiled. "That's what I want you to promise. Promise me you'll try to stay sober."

She looked at him, really looked at him. Gone was the stubborn man who was reluctant to give her a job. In his place was a caring, non-judging, and sympathetic man. He didn't care if she was an alcoholic, he just wanted to help.

"Not many people have asked that of me before," she whispered.

"Why not?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. I guess they just expect me to be able to stop and that's it. But, it's not like that." She inhaled sharply. "Troy, I can promise that I'll try. But what if I relapse? I don't want you to go through this again."

He shook his head. "I don't care. I'm glad Andy and Steph found you. Where's your phone?"

She frowned but pointed to the kitchen table. "Just there. Why?"

He grabbed it and began pushing buttons, immediately being able to find the phonebook and successfully add his number. He handed it back to her. "You have my number now. If you ever find yourself on the brink of a relapse, if you're drunk in a pub and realise what you're doing, or if you've bought alcohol and afraid of what you might do, just call me, okay?"

"You don't mean that," she muttered.

"But I do," he pressed. "No matter what time it is, where you are, day or night, hell or high water. I'll come and help you."

"Thank you," she murmured. "I'm not sure what would've happened if Andy and Steph hadn't brought me to you."

He shrugged. "Don't think about that. You're home now and you're going to get stronger again. I promise."

Gabriella was silent for a moment. "Can you not tell anybody? I mean, it's not really something that I'm comfortable with people knowing."

He smiled. "Your secret's safe with me. Just promise me you'll try to stay sober."

She nodded solemnly. "I promise," she whispered. She looked up at him and her breath caught in her throat. He was mere inches from her face. That wasn't what bothered her. She wasn't scared by the chance that he might kiss her. What terrified her was the churning in her stomach. It wasn't butterflies. It was more like a herd of elephants stampeding inside of her. A ferocious heat raged through her veins, her heart was working overtime in her chest, and her mouth felt incredibly dry. The pure, natural, animalistic desire she felt scared her to death because it wasn't due to his looks. It was because of how downright caring he was being.

Maybe it was because she was hungover and she was still rather vulnerable, but all she knew was that she wanted him.

There was a part of her that wanted the feeling to stop. She wanted to be able to think clearly, to think rationally and to reason exactly why they should never be together. But as he rested a hand on her waist, fuelling the fire within her veins, and took a hesitant step towards her, she realised that she didn't want it to stop. She wanted it to last, she wanted it to continue until it consumed her in fire and heat until there was her, there was Troy, and there was nothing else.

He tilted his head slightly to hers, slowly making the inches, centimetres. Then, the gap between them was no more than the mere breadth width of a hair.

Until a high pitched ringing pierced the air.

Reality seemed to crash down and she leapt away, taking all of her effort to quash the desire within her. "Umm, th-the phone," she stuttered as she made her way over to the landline phone. She pushed the 'answer' button. "Yeah, what's up?"

"Gabriella!" a voice exclaimed.

Gabriella seemed to snap out of her inner turmoil and had to smile at her friend's panic in her voice. "Shar! I'm here. I'm fine, I promise."

"Gabs, from what Andy said, I think we really need to talk," Zeke said softly.

Gabriella glanced at Troy who gave her a small nod. She gave him a small, thankful smile. "You can come on up."


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Hello to you :) And hello summer :D And check out my profile. There are banners and pics and videos about my stories (including this one!)**

**Enjoy X**

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><p><span>Chapter 10<span>

"Thank God you're alright," Sharpay exclaimed as soon as the door opened. She crushed her best friend in her arms, tighter than usual. That was expected. Sharpay had every right to go over the top after what Andy had obviously just disclosed to her.

Gabriella laughed lightly and pushed her friend away. "Shar, calm down. I'm still suffering from a hangover."

"What were you thinking, Gabs?" Zeke asked softly.

Gabriella shrugged. "I don't know. I guess I _wasn't_ thinking. You know that yesterday is always hard for me. And I guess, I don't know. With Addie and everything, I took it that much harder."

In the silence that ensued, Troy touched Gabriella's shoulder. "Maybe I should go."

Gabriella shook her head. "No. You can stay."

Troy looked at Zeke and Sharpay. "Well, why don't you all sit down and I'll make some coffee?"

Gabriella nodded thankfully and sat down on the settee, between Sharpay and Zeke. "I guess Andy told you what happened last night?"

"About you getting drunk?" Zeke whispered.

"Yeah," Gabriella muttered. She swallowed the lump in her throat, trying desperately to sooth the fire that was still burning in her stomach. "Don't worry, Troy knows. I told him."

"You mean even about..." Sharpay gasped as she gestured to Gabriella's left wrist, wrapped in the usual bandana.

Gabriella frowned. "Hell no. Just my...problem. He's been helping me, talking to me."

Sharpay nodded slowly. "So how do you feel?"

How _did_ she feel? For that moment before Sharpay and Zeke had interrupted, she had been thinking about something other than alcohol. She'd been consumed by a desire she hadn't experienced in over twelve years. In that moment when she'd actually _prayed_ that he'd kiss her, he'd made her forget her demons. She hadn't had to resist the temptation to drink alcohol. She'd just had to resist the temptation to kiss him, to sleep with him, to love him. And she wasn't exactly putting up a willing fight for that.

She shrugged. "I don't know. My head hurts, I know that. You guys know that I don't like that question. I promise you both that I'm fine."

Troy came in, carrying a tray of four mugs, a jug of milk and a bowl of sugar. "I wasn't sure how you took it."

Sharpay and Gabriella glanced at each other. "Total opposites," they said together.

Gabriella laughed at Troy's puzzled face and pointed at Sharpay. "She has it way too milky," she exclaimed as she reached for one of the mugs.

Sharpay scoffed. "And she doesn't ever have milk in hers," she protested.

Troy turned to Zeke who shrugged. "You get used to it."

Sharpay poured a generous amount of milk into her mug. "Gabs, why don't you go and phone your mum, tell her you're okay?"

Gabriella paused. "She doesn't know, does she?"

Zeke shook his head. "She doesn't know you drank, but I think you should still reassure her."

Gabriella nodded and stood up. "Will you guys be okay?"

"We'll be fine," Troy murmured as she headed to the kitchen.

"You looked after her," Sharpay stated once Gabriella was out of earshot. It wasn't a question, she wasn't angry. She was stating the obvious.

Troy shrugged. "What was I going to do? Kick her out when she was at her most vulnerable? I'm not that kind of guy. Give me some credit."

Zeke sipped his coffee. "How'd you find her?"

Troy shook his head. "Andy found her at _The Duchess_. He'd gone there with his best friend and they didn't know what to do so they brought her to me."

Sharpay sighed. "Troy, I like you. I can tell you're good for her and, from what she's told us, she's good for you, too. But, don't press her for anything. Just let her be for a few days."

Troy frowned. "I wouldn't ever pressure her. Why would you think that I would?"

Zeke shrugged. "Precautionary measure. We're her friends, we protect her, we look after her, we interrogate every person that enters her life." He gestures with his eyes to Sharpay.

"Hey," she protested, hitting Zeke's arm.

Troy smiled. "Well, I might be a man and I might be a dad but I'm not oblivious. I know that whatever is so bad about yesterday is not something she's overreacting about. I'm not going to pressure her for her to tell me what it is, though. As long as she's okay and as long as she knows that she can talk to me, I don't care whether she tells me or not."

Zeke frowned. "Troy, I want you to answer me this very honestly. What do you feel for her?"

Troy paused. "I know why you're asking. And before you worry any further, I'm not stringing her along. Andy's mother isn't around anymore. She's not in any of our lives. But, honestly? I don't know. I care for her but other than that?" He shrugged. "I wish I knew."

Gabriella came back in and paused when everyone else fell silent. "Were you talking about me?"

Troy shook his head. "I was just saying that you don't have to go to work tomorrow if you don't want to."

"No," she whispered. "I want to. Less tempting."

* * *

><p>Gabriella lifted her head from her book. She was sat, cross-legged on the table in the garage. It was unusually quiet today. Andy was at university, Jamie hadn't yet come in and Troy had offered for her to have a break while he fixed an electric problem on a Ford Fiesta. He hadn't exactly wanted her back to work yet but when she explained that if she was working, it was easier to fight temptation, how could he refuse?<p>

"Hey, Troy?" she asked quietly.

"Yeah," he replied as he looked up from the bonnet.

"Can I ask you a question?"

Troy straightened up and moved his shoulders to relax his tense back muscles. "Sure."

She looked across at him, dressed in one of his usual off-white shit and a pair of tattered jeans, resting loosely on his hips. For the short time between yesterday and today that they'd been apart, Gabriella had been confident that the desire and the lust and the want that she felt for him wouldn't affect her at work. But she was wrong. She had watched his fluid movements as he worked on the car. She had admired his pronounced eagle wings and his slim hips. Even when she had been working, she hadn't been as focussed as she'd liked to be.

She looked down at the pages of her book. "Where's Andy's mother?"

Troy frowned. "Why do you want to know about her?"

Gabriella looked up at him and shrugged. "No one talks about her and I'm curious. I'm sorry, you don't have to tell me."

Troy paused and walked over to her, sitting on a chair in front of her. "You've told me one of your secrets, I'll tell you one of mine. Well, it's not a secret, exactly. I guess a more accurate description would be a part of my life I choose to ignore." He took a deep breath. "Andy's mother was a mistake. Andy wasn't. If there was some way that I could get Andy and never have had her in my life, I'd have it that way. We met at uni and everyone told me not to go out with her, but that frustrated me and made me want to go out with her even more. So we did."

She watched him curiously. He was sat back comfortably in the chair, legs apart in that typical masculine way, and his arms were folded loosely across his chest. To an outsider, he would look as if he was doing nothing more than watching TV. But, in the few weeks that Gabriella had known him, she knew it was a lie, nothing more than a facade. She could tell by his eyes. He thought if he sat the way he was, she wouldn't see how much this story affected him. But, she could see.

"We were only nineteen, not even in our second year. At first, it was a novelty. We were proving to people that we could be together. But, after a while, her true colours shone through and she was demanding and selfish and a drama queen." He looked at her with a crooked smile. "Ironically, she was a drama student."

Gabriella smiled but let him continue.

"So just before we broke up for the summer holidays, she told me she was pregnant with my baby. She said it so matter-of-factly, like she was commenting on the weather. She didn't sound like she'd just told me that I was a dad, that there was my baby inside of her," he exclaimed.

There it was. In the final few words, anger laced his voice, the first emotion for him to show. Gabriella gave him credit. He was braver than she was. He was telling her something about his past. So far, all he knew about her was that she was an alcoholic. She wasn't exactly willing to tell him why she was one. Still, he hadn't asked.

But, as Troy talked, speaking of how he felt when he found out he was a father, Gabriella could feel that familiar prick in the back of her throat. She wasn't fighting the temptation to drink; she was fighting the urge to cry. He'd unknowingly unearthed memories she had no wish to re-visit. But, it was okay. As long as she didn't cry, he wouldn't know.

"She was going to abort, you know," he muttered. "I didn't really think about how I was still at university or how I had no money. All I knew was that I wanted that baby."

When he paused, Gabriella asked, "What did your parents think?"

He shrugged. "What could they think? I mean, I was nineteen. I couldn't even make toast without setting the smoke alarm off."

Gabriella hid her smile behind her hand.

Troy quirked an eyebrow. "Miss Montez, what's so funny?"

"I hope Andy hasn't been living off burnt toast for twenty years," she murmured.

"Suffice to say that my mum, Taylor and Kelsi gave me a crash course in cooking over nine months," he muttered. "But, my mum and dad sat me down and said that no matter what I decided, they were there for me. So I spent an entire week convincing her not to get an abortion. Eventually, she reconsidered. She continued with the pregnancy. Andy was born. She didn't care. She didn't hold him. It was all me. But, I didn't care. He was mine. All mine. No one else's. After all of the parties and messing around with friends, I finally had a reason to grow up. It was a good reason, though."

Gabriella couldn't help the smile that tugged at her lips. Despite how his story had unintentionally hit a raw nerve for her, she could see how much his son meant to him. All of the banter and insults which passed back and fore between the two were just their way of appreciating each other. She knew from experience that family could be a pain in the ass at times. But, despite that, maybe even because of it, you still loved them. And throwing insults at each other just seemed like part of Troy's and Andy's daily routine.

"So after she'd given birth, she had all of her medical checks done and then she left. She dropped out of uni, she left Scarborough, she might've left the country for all I know. I haven't heard of her since." He looked at her, then, a morbid look on his face. "I'm glad she didn't even try. I would never wish for Andy to meet her."

Gabriella frowned a little bit. "Didn't you even try for her to be in his life?"

Troy shrugged. "I wrote her one letter every year on his birthday. The only address I knew was her parents and they could've left along with her. I honestly didn't know. Still, I never quite got around to posting them. I might have been scared that she'd come back and be in his life, I don't know. But, before I knew it, he was eighteen and I knew that it wasn't my choice anymore. If he wanted to find his mum, he was more than welcome to do it. Thankfully, he hasn't chosen to do that."

After Troy had finished, a lengthy silence ensued. Troy had told his story and Gabriella couldn't think of anything to offer him. He'd just told her a story that was obviously very painful for him, despite his best efforts to hide just how much the story affected him. But, still, she didn't know what to say. As selfish as it sounded, she didn't want him to know anymore about her life than he already did. He knew she was an alcoholic and that was as much as she wanted him to know. But, as she looked him in the eyes, all she saw was relief. It was relief that he had told her because he knew she wouldn't judge. But laced with that relief, she spied what she could only describe as guilt. What he had to be guilty about, she didn't know. Troy was one of the most honest men she'd ever met.

Unless...

"You shouldn't feel guilty, you know," she whispered.

He frowned. "I'm not guilty."

"I may not have known you long but I know your eyes. You feel guilty. And if it's about Andy growing up without a mother, you haven't got a thing to be guilty about. Andy's a great kid. He couldn't have asked for a better dad," she said softly.

Troy smiled brightly at her. She had just said something that a lot of people would have said without really thinking about the meaning. Saying something like that is often said just to make the other person feel better. It's like saying 'It'll be okay' when everybody knows that it won't be. It's meaningless, simply an act to make the other party feel better. But, Troy could tell by the small smile she gave him that she meant it. She truly believed he was a good father.

"Thank you," he murmured. He paused, twiddling his thumbs, avoiding her eyes. "I don't think I've asked: do you have anybody?"

Gabriella shook her head slowly. "No," she muttered. "There's nobody else. Just me. I like to think that if I had a boyfriend, I wouldn't try to seduce my boss, drunk or sober."

Before he could respond, she slid off of the table and looked down on him. "Andy's mother...she sounds like she was a lot of things. But, to me, the biggest thing she was, was a fool. I don't know how she could leave you and Andy behind. A woman would be lucky to have you both in her life."

She walked away, then, heading towards the Fiesta that Troy had been working on.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Good morning, folks! How are you on this bright and sunny day? Yes, it's bright and sunny in England. We're almost living California style :P I hope you enjoyed this. This chapter was kinda fun to write :D**

**Enjoy x**

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><p><span>Chapter 11<span>

What was she thinking? Her friendship with him had been inevitable when she had been born and had been out of her control. Still, she'd had the choice to leave before her feelings had developed into something she honestly didn't want. She could've lived quite happily without ever having fallen in love with him. She could've chosen to avoid those feelings, but did she choose to have those feelings? She couldn't remember actually _choosing_ to feel anything for him.

Still, who would actually _choose_ to feel this way?

Turning away from the vomit-inducing sight in front of her, she focussed on her work. That was the thing: she was way out of his league. Her idea of a good time was scuba diving to look at starfish. That was _such_ a turn on. Besides, to him, she was invisible. She was his buddy, his pal...his friend.

Steph sighed and leaned back in her chair, stretching her stiff back muscles. She'd been in the university library for almost an hour and she'd written a paragraph. One lone paragraph. So her aim to finish her essay was not going to be fulfilled. But it wasn't her fault.

It was his.

Andy had decided to bring one of his friends from one of his lectures to the library and for the last hour, all Steph had heard were the girl's squeaky, mouse-like giggles. Steph liked to think that she didn't judge books by their covers. Metaphorically, at least. But, this girl, Georgia, if her memory served her correctly, was actually really annoying. And a bitch. And really flirty. Not in the attractive way that a lot of people found cute or sweet. Steph had seen girls flirt in a way that she had labelled, rather aptly, 'disgustingly desperate'. As in, resorting to practically stripping in front of the guy for attention.

In this case, said guy was Andy. And he was actually giving this girl attention. Maybe he wasn't inviting her to sleep with him, but he was unknowingly encouraging her.

That was the worst thing about it: he didn't have a clue. Maybe it was in the genes. After all, Troy was rather oblivious to how much he and Gabriella should be together.

Still, Steph liked to believe she wasn't the jealous type. She was a an attractive, intelligent young woman, the result of such qualities being that she'd had her fair share of experience with boys. But despite the relationships that she'd been a part of in her past, she'd never really felt jealous. Sure, she got annoyed if a girl flirted with her boyfriend. But she didn't feel the sickening, stomach churning, suffocating _jealousy_ that raged through her veins that she felt that minute.

She and Andy had always been teased about how their friendship would 'obviously' (her dad's words, not hers) turn into something more. But she'd denied it because she didn't feel _anything_ for Andy other than the love you are obligated to feel for an annoying, bratty older brother. But, then he changed. Or maybe it was her. Maybe she had just been ignorant of the truth for too long. Because the truth was, she loved him. She was truly, unconditionally, irrevocably in love with him.

And it made her sick.

She quickly saved the little work she had accomplished and logged off the computer. She wasn't surprised to find that both Andy and Georgia failed to notice that she'd packed her books away and had risen from her seat. She paused, having an inner debate as to whether she should announce her departure or just disappear.

She watched as Andy explained something mathematical, oblivious to Georgia's flirting and to the fact that Steph had packed her stuff up. Yes, it was better if she just disappeared.

She headed towards the door of the library, determined not to cry. What would crying achieve anyway? She knew what her friends, her mother, even Uncle Troy would tell her: she was worth more than that.

Just as she was pushing the door open, a hand caught her by the crook of her elbow. She turned, coming face to face with Andy. She didn't say anything, just offered him a small, unconvincing smile.

"Where are you going?" he asked. "I thought we were studying together."

"So did I," she whispered. "But, believe it or not, in my naivety, I kind of assumed that 'we' referred to just you and me. I didn't want to be a third wheel." She headed outside, Andy following her.

"Steph, talk to me. What's really going on?" he asked.

Steph turned to him with a sarcastic smile. "You bastard. I'm your best friend. And you totally blew me off back there."

"I did not blow you off," he exclaimed.

She nodded. "That's right. You just didn't speak to me at all ever since you brought her to study. It's disgusting how she acts."

Andy shrugged helplessly. "She wanted my help."

"Well," Steph began slowly, "to save me from bringing my lunch back up, I think my dad's going fishing. I think I'll join him."

Andy frowned. "Steph, you get sea sick."

She shrugged. "It'd be more pleasurable than watching her trying to seduce you."

Before he could respond, she turned around and marched her way off campus. He didn't follow and she didn't know whether she was grateful or if she was more pissed off because of that. All of her life, when she'd wanted to cry, or she was so angry that she feared she might hurt somebody, or when she felt like giving up, she turned to Andy. He always knew what to do.

But, he honestly didn't have a clue.

* * *

><p>"Are you feeling okay today?" Troy asked quietly. He attempted to sound casual but Gabriella could hear the worry in his voice.<p>

She slid out from under the car, on a creeper. She looked up at him. "I'm fine," she whispered as she got to her feet. "Stop worrying about me. My family do that enough by themselves."

"You can't blame them. Look, Jamie's on call out. You can tell me the truth," he murmured.

Gabriella frowned. "I am telling the truth. I'm fine. I haven't drunk anything, if that's what you're asking."

Troy sighed. "Yeah, that's pretty much it."

Gabriella walked over to the table to put the spanner away in her tool box. She turned to Troy and sighed. "I promised that I'd call you if I was ever in trouble. Isn't that enough?"

Before Troy could reply, a clatter caught his attention. On the pavement outside of the garage, Steph was in a crumpled heap, her stuff surrounding her. He rushed out to help her, Gabriella following. "Steph, are you okay?" he asked as he crouched down to pick her stuff up.

Gabriella crouched next to Troy and frowned at Steph's silence as she slid some papers together. "Steph, what's wrong?"

Steph wiped her eyes and shook her head. "It's all your fault." She pointed accusingly at Troy.

Troy sighed and grabbed her hand to pull her up. "What did Andy do this time?"

"Just let me go home," she muttered.

Gabriella touched the younger woman's arm. "Steph, why don't you go into the back office and calm down. I don't think you should be alone right now."

Steph paused but then shook her head. "I really just want to go home."

Gabriella shook her head. "That's the last thing you want. You can tell me. Trust me. I'm almost twenty years older than you. Not only does that make me feel incredibly old, but it also means that I know how you feel."

Steph glanced at Troy. "I'm sorry but I really don't want to talk around Uncle Troy."

He sighed and gestured to the garage. "The empty office awaits." He waited until Steph had headed inside when he stopped Gabriella. "Forget the car, concentrate on her, okay?"

She smiled and nodded. "Don't worry. I've been there. She'll cheer up in no time. I promise. But, if Andy _dares_ come within a mile's radius of this place, send him away. I don't care where you send your son, but he's the last thing that poor girl needs."

Troy saluted her. "Don't worry, when it comes to Steph, I know that my son's an idiot."

Gabriella giggled. "Certainly seems that way." They kept looking at each other for a moment before Gabriella gave him a final smile and headed to the back office. She shut the door behind her and sat down opposite Steph. "When did you know?"

"Huh?" she muttered, creasing her forehead in confusion.

"When did you know you loved Andy?" Gabriella asked quietly.

Steph shrugged, pushing a lock of her red hair out of her face. "I don't know. Maybe I was seventeen. Something like that. I didn't choose to love him. Who would want this? I didn't wake up one day and choose to feel this way." She paused, running a finger along the edge of Troy's desk. "I thought it was a harmless crush at first. I thought it'd pass. But, here I am, at twenty, pining away for a guy who doesn't look at me twice."

Gabriella gave her a sad smile. "Do you know why he doesn't look at you twice?"

Steph shook her head. "Why is it?"

"Men are idiots," she murmured.

Steph smiled slightly. "Have you ever been in love?"

Gabriella nodded. "Yeah. I have."

"How did you survive? I mean, I just feel like throwing up whenever I see Andy," she exclaimed.

Gabriella frowned. "I almost didn't survive," she whispered.

"Gabi, you're cool and everything, but that last statement didn't put a load of confidence in me," she muttered, rolling her eyes.

Gabriella laughed. "Steph, it sucks when you love someone who doesn't love you back. I'll be the first to admit that. You waste so much time hoping that they'll turn your way, just for a minute. And then you realise what you're doing, how much time you've wasted on someone who doesn't seem to care, and that's when it hurts the most. But, when you find someone who loves you back, it's wonderful. It's wonderful because that person, that person who is right for you, won't care that you like underwater creatures more than people."

Steph cracked a smile. "Especially starfish."

"They won't care about that, either. They won't care that you cry so much that your makeup runs. They won't care about that stuff because they'll just love you. And it's beautiful," she whispered.

Steph frowned. "What if it ends? How do you survive?"

Gabriella stared at her shoes, suddenly thinking that they were the most fascinating things in the world. "Steph, you're only twenty. Even if you and Andy do get together, there's still a chance it'll end but you can't think about that. If everyone thought that way, humans would just die out. You've just got to go for it and, if it does end, remember it for all the right reasons."

Steph looked across at the older woman. "Gabi, do you have anybody? I mean, is there anyone you've been in love with?"

"Just one guy," she whispered. "I think about him every day. Not because I necessarily want him back. In fact, I'm better off without him. But, I know that I wouldn't be me if I'd never been with him." She paused. "Do you understand what I'm trying to say?"

Steph nodded and gave her a brave smile. "Yeah, I do. But, what should I do about Andy?"

Gabriella shrugged. "Do whatever feels right. If that's walking up to him and telling him how you feel, go for it. If that's just waiting it out, that's fine, too. But, while you feel this way, don't get with another guy. You can't force yourself to fall out of love with someone. If you're with someone else, you'll feel guilty and you'll be upset and you'll feel worse."

Steph smiled. "Thanks. Do you think Uncle Troy would mind if I studied in here for a while?"

Gabriella shook her head as she stood up. "He'll be fine with it. Steph, if you ever want someone to talk to about this stuff, come and find me. I know it can be difficult talking to your mum and so just come and find me if you need me." She shut the door behind her and turned to find Troy stood only a foot away, looking like a deer caught in a headlight. "Eavesdrop much?" she joked as she headed towards the table and sat down.

Troy took a seat near her. "I couldn't resist. Is she okay?"

Gabriella nodded. "She'll be fine." She paused. "Hey, back there, when she said it was your fault, how did you know it was Andy?"

He shrugged. "She's been doing for years. Whenever Andy's done something wrong, she blames me."

"Did that start around when she was seventeen?" Gabriella asked, quirking an eyebrow.

Troy frowned. "Probably. Why?"

Gabriella rolled her eyes as she stood up. "Guys are idiots."

* * *

><p>Alejandro Montez loved his job. He could never quite pinpoint the time when he realised that he wanted to help people. All he knew was that, for as long as he could remember, he'd wanted to be a doctor. More specifically, he wanted to be a paediatrician. He loved his job. His days were always full of smiles and laughter from the children. Of course, pushy and overprotective parents were also part and parcel of his job. But, it was a small price to pay for seeing a healthy child able to go home with their parents.<p>

It seemed crazy, he knew. Being a parent was a full-time occupation. And when he wasn't home, taking care of his son and daughter, he was at the hospital, taking care of other people's children. Being a parent meant pushing a pink doll's pram because your daughter is tired and you forget about your masculinity. Being a parent meant being awake all night because your new baby is crying all night, and still able to get to work on time. Being a parent meant going without a Christmas present so that you could afford the specific bike that your little boy wanted.

Being a parent meant helping children when their biological parents couldn't.

Alejandro was not exempt to feeling the heartbreaking worry that you might lose your child. He'd stood on the sidelines, watching helplessly as his colleagues assessed and assisted both his daughter, Natali, and his son, Daniel, at one time or another. He'd promised himself that, no matter the problem, he'd never treat his children for anything. He didn't want to be just another person in a white coat that gave them injections that hurt or medicine that tasted disgusting. He wanted both Natali and Daniel to see him as a father, not a doctor.

The problem with being a doctor was that the people you wanted to help the most, your family, were sometimes the hardest to treat.

He knew that better than most.

Alejandro smiled at the little girl who was sat up in her bed, playing with a doll and an array of miniature clothing. "Good afternoon, Miss. How are we feeling today?"

She frowned down at her arm which was connected to an IV drip. "When will my arm be free?"

"Just a few more days," he said softly.

Before he could even pick up her chart, a nurse approached him. "Doctor Montez," she began quietly.

He could tell, just from her tone, that something was wrong. He thought up a hundred possibilities: the little boy with epilepsy having a seizure, the little girl with meningitis flat lining, the little girl with leukaemia starting to be unresponsive to her treatment. But nothing could've prepared him for the next five words that left her mouth.

"You've got a phone call," she muttered before she walked back to the nurses' station.

He frowned. "I'll be back in a minute, Sweetheart," he assured the little girl before he headed towards the nurses' station. He tentatively picked up the phone. "This is Doctor Alejandro Montez."

"Alejandro," Greg said softly.

Alejandro rolled his eyes. "Dad, if this is about Mum yelling at you every time you complain about not being able to fix cars anymore, I've told you, you're both as bad as each other."

"No," Greg murmured. "Mi hijo **(A/N: my son)** have you seen the news?"

Alejandro laughed. "Dad, I work with kids. The TV doesn't vary much from _Handy Manny_ and _The Night Garden_. Why? Dad, just tell me what's wrong."

Greg sighed. "There's been a bombing. In Afghanistan."


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Hello people. So here's your weekly update. At the bottom is a preview of the next chapter. Yes, I'm starting previews :D. I thought you'd like that. I'm currently writing chapter 17. I think you'll enjoy that one. Anyway, I've started a blog. I'll post the link on my profile. And please check out my profile. There are promotional pictures made by me, Lee and Cortnie for this story (and others). Although mine are, by far, not the best, I'm still proud of them :)**

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><p><span>Chapter 12<span>

"Why are women so damn complicated?" Andy ranted. "Yesterday, Steph went completely psycho and ran away from the library. I mean, all the women I've ever met are confusing. Why are they that way?"

Troy shrugged and pointed to Gabriella who was sat cross-legged on the table, eating an apple. "Why don't you ask one?"

Gabriella quirked an eyebrow. "Me?"

Andy shrugged. "You're a woman, right?"

Gabriella nodded slowly and threw her apple core into the nearby bin. "The last time I checked."

"Well, why are you all so complicated?" he exclaimed.

"You want the truth?" she asked. "The male half of the species is less complicated than an earthworm. You have three basic needs. And don't argue with me, you'll be in denial and I'm older, therefore I know more than you. Imagine a triangle. A guy is the centre point inside that triangle and all three corners are equal distance from the centre. Following so far?"

Andy nodded. "So, an equilateral triangle?"

Gabriella smiled. "Exactly. So, one of those points is food. Men love food. You can eat and eat and eat and not gain a pound. A second point of the triangle is a girl. Any girl in the world. The final point is sports. Whether it's football, rugby, wrestling, snooker, you love sports. Those are the three necessities of the male half of the species. Of course, those things vary with culture, religion, sexuality, but generally, you need those three things."

Andy shrugged. "Where do women come into this?"

Gabriella glanced at Troy who raised an eyebrow and then turned back to work. "Women make up for the complications that you lack."

Andy groaned, throwing his head back. "Oh my god. But, you're so frustrating. I do something wrong, you don't talk to me and I don't even know what I did. I mean, she hasn't talked to me since yesterday and I don't know why she's upset."

"Wow," Troy piped up. "Haven't talked since yesterday? This must be serious. You know," he began, pointing a spanner at Gabriella, "when they were six, they argued at school over a crayon. The fight lasted the car ride home."

Gabriella smiled. "Andy, she won't talk to you."

"Well, should I apologise?" he asked.

Gabriella gasped. "Hell no. Not unless you know what you've done."

"Gabi, I _don't_ know what I've done," he exclaimed.

"I do," she whispered. "So does your dad. The only one who doesn't know is you."

Before Andy could respond, Gabriella was distracted by a familiar face approaching. "Hey, Alejandro. What are you doing here? Troy, Andy," she introduced.

Alejandro waved half heartedly at the two Bolton men and then turned back to Gabriella. "Have you seen the news?"

Gabriella frowned. "I'm working. Why? What's happened?"

He sighed. "There's been a bombing. In Afghanistan."

She smiled sarcastically. "No. You're lying to me."

"Gabi, why would I lie to you?" he exclaimed. "I hate seeing you upset, I would never cause it."

Tears sprang to her eyes as she clambered off the table. "Troy, does your laptop have the internet?"

"Uh, yeah, go on through," he murmured slowly, gesturing to the office.

Without asking permission, she sat down at his desk and switched the laptop on. She saw Troy loitering hesitantly in the doorway, clearly unsure what was happening and what he should. Instead of addressing him, she turned back to the laptop and logged onto the BBC news website. She was greeted by the same words all over the screen:

_Afghanistan._

_Bomb._

_Deaths._

Gabriella felt tears well in her eyes and before anyone could stop her, she'd pushed past her brother and her boss and left the confinements of the office.

Before Troy could follow her, Alejandro rested a hand on his shoulder. "She won't go far."

* * *

><p>Troy handed Alejandro a cup of coffee. "You take it black, like Gabriella does."<p>

Alejandro nodded. "Everyone in our family does." He eyed Troy as he looked worriedly at Gabriella who was stood at the far end of the garage, leaning against the wall. "You can ask, you know."

Troy shrugged. "What's up?"

Alejandro sighed and sipped his coffee. "Our younger sister, Addie, is a medical nurse in the navy and she's based in Afghanistan. It doesn't sound too scary. I mean, she doesn't touch guns or anything. But, she's in a tent, in the desert, with a bucket. And she's my sister. And there's just been a bombing over there."

Troy was silent for a moment. "Why isn't she leaving? I mean, surely she wants to be home right now."

Alejandro shrugged. "Ignorance. We all do it. Gabi, me, Mum, Dad. We're all guilty of it. It's not that we don't care. It's just that if we acknowledge the danger that Addie's in, we'd all stop living because we'd worry too much. So we pretend that she's fine and we move on."

Troy nodded slowly. "Will she be okay?"

Alejandro quirked an eyebrow. "Are you talking about Addie or Gabriella? Don't worry, in the circumstances, I won't go into overprotective-brother-mode."

Troy cracked a smile. "Well, yes, I was talking about Brie."

Alejandro shrugged. "I don't know. We all worry but we've never had to deal with this before."

Troy stared across at Gabriella. She was a simple woman who had the misfortune to be burdened with complications. How could he imagine that kind of concern for a sibling? Or for anyone for that matter. Bolton's had lived in Scarborough for generations. And none of them ever left. Not for anything. He never had to miss anybody because his family was only ever a few minutes down the road. And his newest employee, the woman that he was always afraid to admit how much he cared for, was dealing with the possibility of her sister being dead.

"What do I say?" Troy asked softly. "I'm not good with things like this."

Alejandro gave him a rueful smile. "Please. You think I'm any better? There's a reason I haven't gone over to her. Whenever she, or anybody else for that matter, is upset, I'm guaranteed to say something wrong and make her feel worse."

Troy smiled. "That's not you, that's men in general."

Before Alejandro could respond, Gabriella turned around and headed back towards them. Troy's heart broke when he saw how she looked. She looked pale, her skin had a sickly pallor to it, and her eyes looked rather dull. She looked as if she hadn't slept in days, despite how Alejandro had told her the devastating news about half an hour ago. She looked ill.

"Have you heard anything?" she asked quietly.

Alejandro shrugged. "I came here straight from work. As far as I know, Dad keeps trying the hotline but he hasn't got through yet. And the house phone is not being used. For anything. Just in case, you know, someone calls about Addie."

Gabriella nodded slowly. She shuffled her feet a little bit, obviously weighing up whether she should say what was on her mind, or to keep it to herself. After a moment, she lifted her head and sought her brother's eyes. "Alex, what do I do? I can't lose her."

Alejandro put his cup down and brought his sister into his arms. Little whimpers were being muffled by his shoulder. All Alejandro could do was hold her while she cried and all Troy could do was stand awkwardly on the sidelines. Going back to work seemed insensitive. But, he felt so helpless just standing there, watching the siblings comfort each other. A part of him, a part which fuelled Troy's selfishness, wanted to be Alejandro. He wanted to hold Gabriella and to comfort her.

Troy rubbed his forehead. But, what was the point? She was dealing with the prospect of her sister being dead. She wouldn't want Troy interfering. She just wouldn't.

Alejandro pulled back from their embrace and brushed Gabriella's bangs from her eyes. "Gabi." He sighed. "I don't know what's happened. But, whatever it is, we'll get through it, _hermana_. **(A/N: sister)** We're Montez's. We've come through tragedies before, haven't we? The only thing we can do is be there for each other. Because that's all we have."

Gabriella sighed. "Where's Sarah? And Nat and Dan?"

Alejandro shrugged. "Sarah's at home. Nat and Dan are still at school."

Gabriella nodded slowly. "I suppose that's best."

Troy couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't stand looking at her forlorn, fear-stricken eyes. He wanted her to smile. He wanted her to laugh. He just wanted the Gabriella that he saw working on cars. He wanted her to be okay. He stepped forward and touched her arm. "Brie, why don't you go home and be with your family? I know, I can tell, that you don't want to face this but you're going to have to. You're not getting much work done and all you're going to do is worry. The best thing for you to do is to go home and be with Alejandro and your parents and comfort each other." He tilted his head to the side, looking into her eyes. "Don't you think?"

She turned to Alejandro. "I need to talk to Troy a minute. In the office. I'll only be a minute."

Alejandro smiled weakly at his sister. "Take all the time you need."

Troy led Gabriella into the office and shut the door behind them. He watched Gabriella sit on the chair in front of the desk. "Brie," he whispered.

"Don't," she muttered. "Please." She looked up at him with watery eyes. "Don't say that you're sorry. Don't say that you understand. Because you don't."

"Actually," he began, crouching in front of her, "I wasn't going to say any of that. Brie, look at me. Just at me." He waited until she reluctantly looked at him. "I know that those words mean shit when someone says them. I just want you to know that if you need someone, anyone, who won't care if you cry or yell or whatever, I'm all ears."

Gabriella looked down at her lap. "Addie's like that."

Troy couldn't help but notice how she had refused to use the past tense. He let her continue.

She swallowed hard and wiped her cheek with her fingers, smearing some oil with her fresh tears. "She didn't care about my _problem_, she was just with me, her sister. _Hermanas para siempre_ **(A/N: sisters forever)**. She didn't care. I mean, she wanted me better. But, she didn't see someone who overreacted, or an addict. All she saw was me, her sister." She shook her head, closing her eyes. "If I don't have her, who do I have? Alejandro has his own family to be concerned with. Mum and Dad are too busy looking after each other. I mean, they're not spring chickens anymore. If I don't have her, I don't have anyone."

Silently, slowly, giving her time to push him away, he reached for her hand. He wrapped his much bigger fingers around her smaller ones. It was a simple action; one that's passed between people on a daily basis. But it was a silent offering. Silent reassurance. He couldn't imagine in a million years how she might feel. He could never understand. But, he wasn't willing to let her battle through this by herself. If anyone asked, he'd emphasise how he was an employer who was concerned for the wellbeing of his employee. But, to himself, he knew it was more than that. He wanted to care for her.

He was willing, despite his fear of women and how he might get hurt, to care for someone other than Andy.

"You have me," he whispered.

Gabriella looked at him. _Really_ looked at him. He cared. He wasn't saying some meaningless shit like she'd expected him to. Perhaps a part of her had actually _wanted_ him to. But, as she looked at him, the familiar fire ignited into an inferno, spreading that incurable desire through her veins. Before she could fully comprehend what she was doing, she reached forward and pressed her lips to his.

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><p><em>He paused. "What's that song that Alejandro played for you?"<em>

"'_Leningrad,'" she whispered._

"_What does it mean to you?" Troy asked quietly._

_She shrugged. "I don't know. I mean, I liked it before my...problem. I guess, now, when I hear this song, I hear my brother telling me exactly why I should be strong and I think of all the reasons to stay sober. Mum, Dad, Alex, Addie, Zeke, Sharpay." She paused and looked down at her scuffed walking boots. "You."_

_Troy touched her cheek with his fingertips. "Brie, look at me." He waited until she looked at him before he placed a soft kiss on her lips._


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N : Happy Monday :) Don't forget. The preview for chapter 14 is at the bottom :)**

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><p><span>Chapter 13<span>

Gabriella's ears were ringing with the strained silence in the house. It was rare for the Montez house to ever be quiet. There was always conversation, laughter and bickering. Even when Addie was away, Gabriella usually found herself arguing with Alejandro over something. Ever since Gabriella was born, she and Alejandro always found something to disagree on. It didn't stop when he got married. When they all had a family dinner, even now that they were grownup, Gabriella and Alejandro were still at each others' throat. But, as the remaining Montez's sat in silence, staring at the landline phone, Gabriella terribly wished she could be arguing with Alejandro again. She wished for that with every fibre of her being. If they were arguing, things were normal.

Things weren't normal right now.

In normal circumstances, Gabriella would be overanalysing her kiss with Troy. But the truth was: she didn't give a damn. She didn't care if they were going to start dating or if things were awkward and he'd fire her. She honestly didn't give a flying fuck. Believe it or not, she was more preoccupied with worrying about Addie. She didn't want to think about the worst possible scenario but how could she not? There was a bombing in Afghanistan where her little sister was based and there were still unconfirmed deaths.

Gabriella looked towards her father. There was nothing specifically wrong with him. It was the standard decrease in health that everyone experienced when they reached their later years. Heart problems, arthritis in his hands and knees, and diabetes. But, mostly, Greg was physically okay. However, in that moment, he didn't look it. He didn't look okay at all. He seemed to have aged about twenty years. His eyes were dull, his greying hair seemed more out of control than usual and his jaw seemed to be set. Possibly fear. Possibly guilt.

Maria was sat in an armchair, compulsively polishing one of her crystal ornaments. Gabriella put it down to an animalistic maternal instinct. Whenever Maria was upset or angry or scared when the subject matter was one of her children, no matter how old they were, she cleaned. It wasn't so much that she actually _wanted_ to clean but that she needed to do something to keep herself composed.

Still, there was one thing that all of the Montez's were doing. They were all staring at the coffee table, at the phone that was lying silently in the middle. Perhaps they would've been better off occupying themselves by doing something, anything, because the longer they sat, the more they worried and the more tragic scenarios they thought of.

But, they didn't do anything. They sat and they watched, praying that Addie was safe.

A shrill ring pierced the strained silence and it took a moment for them all to realise that the phone was ringing. Greg reached forward and pressed the speakerphone button. He glanced at his wife and his oldest son and daughter who were all perched on the edge of their seats.

"Uh, hello?" he asked tentatively. His Spanish accent was more prominent as fear, anxiety, and worry took over.

"_Hello, this is _Blue Sky_ life insurance, I'd like to explain our over 50's plan-_" a feminine voice spoke politely.

Before the lady could even finish her sentence, a loud voice, laced in anger, yelled out, "_Vete para la verga, perra!_" **(A/N: Fuck off, you bitch)**

Greg hadn't moved an inch, Alejandro was holding his breath and Maria was crying silently into a handkerchief. It was Gabriella was standing up, phone clutched in her hand, breathing hard as anger coursed through her veins. The phone slipped out of her hands as tears leaked from her eyes.

"It's not fair," she whispered.

Alejandro stood up and touched his sister's arm. "Gabi, I know it's not."

"Our sister might be dead and we have insurances companies phoning us? Fuck this," she cried before she shrugged her brother off and stormed out of the room.

She slammed the front door behind her and sighed. She didn't mean to snap at Alejandro and she didn't even mean to snap at the insurance lady. How could she possibly know that the house that she was calling was on the brink of being torn apart? It wasn't her fault. Gabriella walked to the end of the driveway and sat on the low wall which surrounded Greg and Maria's front garden.

Ever since Addie had confessed how she'd wanted to become a military medic, Gabriella had worried. There wasn't a day that went by without her praying for Addie's safety. But the longer that Addie went without extreme danger or injury, the more Gabriella took it for granted that things would stay that way. And that's what made everything so much worse. Gabriella was Addie's older sister. Shouldn't she have persuaded her not to go into the Navy and prevented something exactly like this?

But, then Addie wouldn't have had the chance to truly help people and live her dream. If that had happened, Gabriella wouldn't have been a very good sister, would she?

Gabriella stared across at the house opposite her parents'. The thought of not seeing Addie again brought a torturous burning in the back of her throat. It would be so easy to extinguish the fire and forget that any of this was happening. She knew that Greg and Maria didn't need to be worrying about Gabriella as well as Addie but she couldn't take it anymore. She couldn't take the feeling of hopelessness anymore. She wanted to forget the worry and the pain.

Gabriella could walk down the street, buy a bottle of vodka and forget all of this.

She massaged her temples for a moment. She wanted to fight the temptation. But the want to forget all of the pain was too strong. She brought her mobile out from her shorts pocket. She flipped her phone open, staring at the picture of Addie that she had as her background. She couldn't very well walk back inside and confess that she was on the brink of another relapse. She really only had one option.

Scrolling through her phonebook, she paused on Troy's name. Mere weeks after revealing her secret addiction she was going to ask him for his help again. After she'd kissed him and prominently left afterwards. But, Troy wasn't exactly a bad man. Even if he didn't want her and didn't like the kiss, he wasn't exactly going to leave her at her lowest point, was he?

She pressed call and listened to the persistent ringing.

"_Hello?_" that wonderfully familiar voice asked.

Gabriella sighed at the sound of his ever-calm voice. He probably had caller ID and he probably had an inkling as to why she was calling. Still, there wasn't a hint of worry in his voice. She closed her eyes and sighed. "Troy, I need you here."

"_What's happened?_" he asked gently after she'd told him where she was.

"Can you just talk to me? Talk to me about anything that pops into your head. Please," she whispered urgently.

"_Of course_," he exclaimed. "_Well, last night me and Andy watched _Top Gear_ and they claimed that the new Aston Martin is the best car in the world which me and Andy disagreed with because Audi just brought out a new car that is so much better._"

"Have you driven the new Audi?" Gabriella asked sceptically.

"_Well,_" Troy laughed, "_not exactly_._ Have you seen the car that I drive?_"

"I fixed it, remember?" she murmured.

"_Exactly. It's not exactly first in line at an Audi showroom, is it?_" he joked.

Gabriella laughed a little bit but it died off. "Are you almost here?"

"_Almost_," he muttered.

"Gabriella?" a gentle voice asked.

She looked up to find an elderly lady staring at her worriedly. "Oh, Mrs Jones. I'm sorry, I didn't see you there."

She smiled sadly. "Is everything okay, Dear?"

Gabriella shrugged, too exhausted to keep up a pretence. "Not really. But I'm fine. My friend is coming to keep me company."

"Aren't Maria and Greg home? I thought I saw Alex go in earlier, as well," she said softly.

Gabriella shook her head. "They're home, I just...I'm really sorry, Mrs Jones, but I'm just not in the mood to talk."

"Brie!" Troy called.

Gabriella turned to see Troy running towards them. She looked up at Mrs Jones. "I'll be fine, I promise."

Mrs Jones paused as Troy sat down next to Gabriella. "Well, I'll go then. I assume you're in good hands. Say hello to Maria and Greg for me."

Gabriella nodded absentmindedly. She waited until Mrs Jones was out of earshot before turned and gave Troy a weak smile. "Hey."

Troy hesitated for only a moment before he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Have you heard anything?"

Gabriella fiddled with her fingers and shook her head. "No. That makes it worse." She looked at Troy with watery eyes. "Do you know what I'm going to say to you?"

He nodded and pulled her closer. He tightened his hold on her, as if he alone could protect her from the world. "Be honest with me: did you drink anything?"

Gabriella closed her eyes, intent to focus on Troy. She wasn't going to think about Addie or the worry or her demons. Just Troy. "You've seen me when I've had a drink. You know that I haven't."

Troy paused for a moment, running his fingers up and down her back, hoping to bring her some sort of comfort. "Why did you call me?"

Gabriella straightened up, forcing him to let go of her. Still, she refused to look at him. Perhaps she was embarrassed that he was seeing her at one of her lowest points. Perhaps she didn't want him to see her family possibly get torn apart. Perhaps she was afraid of confronting the kiss with him. Whatever the reason, she didn't want to look at him. "You think I can go back in there and tell them that I'm thinking about drinking again when they're concerned about their daughter possibly being dead? I can't ask for their help. Not now. They think I've been strong for so long."

Troy brought her back into his arms. "So you asked for my help instead," he whispered.

She shrugged. "You offered, remember. I didn't have many options."

"You still thinking about drinking right now?" Troy asked quietly.

Gabriella nodded, letting tears drip down her cheeks. She finally looked at Troy, letting him see how broken she was. "I can't take it. I just want a peaceful life. I don't want to worry about my sister every day like this. I should've stopped her before she signed up."

Troy brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "Don't you dare blame yourself for this," he said sternly. He knew all about self blame. For twenty years, he'd blamed himself for how Andy didn't have a mother and blamed himself for other things that still haunted him. But, he didn't want Gabriella to feel that way. It would only push her even closer to drink again.

"But," Gabriella started.

"I'm serious," he exclaimed. "You can't think that way, Brie, you just can't. You love her so much, I know you do and whatever happens after today, none of it is your fault."

Gabriella paused. "What do I do, Troy? Addie might be dead and I'm sat here, complaining about how I'm thinking about drinking again."

Troy shrugged. "I don't know, Brie. I wish I did. I'm crap in these situations."

Gabriella rested her hand on his knee. "No you're not." She looked away from him. "You've kept me talking. I haven't drunk, have I?"

Troy placed his hand over hers. "No, you haven't." He paused. "What's that song that Alejandro played for you?"

"'Leningrad,'" she whispered.

"What does it mean to you?" Troy asked quietly.

She shrugged. "I don't know. I mean, I liked it before my..._problem_. I guess, now, when I hear this song, I hear my brother telling me exactly why I should be strong and I think of all the reasons to stay sober. Mum, Dad, Alex, Addie, Zeke, Sharpay." She paused and looked down at her scuffed walking boots. "You."

Troy touched her cheek with his fingertips. "Brie, look at me." He waited until she looked at him before he placed a soft kiss on her lips. He pulled back and sent her a crooked smile when her eyes fluttered open. "Listen," he whispered, "you didn't drink, did you? Whatever happens after today, you'll be okay, I promise."

"How can you promise me that?" she whispered.

He shrugged. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you."

Gabriella blushed prettily and gave him a shy smile. "Thank you." She gestured with her head to the house. "Do you mind coming inside with me? I don't want you to leave just yet."

* * *

><p>Gabriella rested her head on Troy's shoulder. Something about sitting between her brother and the guy she sort of had a thing for made the silence easier to endure. Pleasantries were brief, nothing more than Gabriella explaining 'This is Troy' and her family responding appropriately with 'Hello' before lapsing back into silence.<p>

Troy's fingers were linked with hers. It was a simple action. Perhaps it was to be expected after the kisses they'd shared. But it was reassuring for her. The silence was no longer as pressurising as it was simply because she knew that, no matter what happened, Troy was there. He was a kind hearted man who had entered her life by chance but still didn't want to see her hurt.

Having Troy beside her was comforting but it didn't make the waiting any easier. Gabriella, as she presumed that Greg, Maria and Alejandro did too, still had a million scenarios in her head. She simply knew that she wasn't going to have to face any of them alone.

Gabriella didn't think it was the most ideal way for Troy to be introduced to her family. But, in the moment, she knew that no matter where their relationship may be headed, starting this way made her feel like he wasn't willing to let them be a short, meaningless fling. Whatever they were determined to be, it was never going to be a fling.

A shrill ring pierced Gabriella's thoughts, making her snap her head up. She glanced at her family as everyone sat on the edges of their seats expectantly. She watched Greg as he wearily reached towards the coffee table to turn the phone on speakerphone. She could tell that he was unsure how she would react if it was another insurance company.

"Hello?" Greg asked slowly.

"_Papi?_" a feminine voice asked.

Greg laughed. "Adela! We're so happy to hear from you. You're on speakerphone. Everyone's here."

"_Hi Mum_," Addie called.

Maria had tears of relief streaming down her cheeks. "Mi hija! I'm so glad you're safe. You _are_ safe, aren't you?"

Addie laughed. "_I'm fine_. _I only have a couple of minutes left, though. I had to wait two hours just to use the payphone here. Alex, you there?_"

"I'm here, Addie," Alejandro replied.

"_Haven't been up to too much mischief since I saw you last, I hope_," she joked.

"Me? Mischief? You must be mistaken," Alejandro replied sarcastically.

A beautiful laugh rang from the phone. "_Of course. I have to be mistaking you with my other brother_," she said sarcastically. "_Hey, Gabi?_"

Gabriella felt Troy squeeze her hand. "Hey, _hermana_," she replied quietly.

"_How are you and Mr Mechanic getting along?_" Addie asked suggestively.

Gabriella felt her cheeks flush as she looked at Troy. He turned away with a very smug grin as he figured out that Gabriella had obviously been talking about him. "Um, Addie, Troy's in the room."

"_Oh, hi Troy,_" Addie said politely.

Troy laughed. "Hey, Addie. I've heard a lot about you."

"_I can say the same_," she exclaimed. "_Gabi, are you alright?_"

Gabriella smiled to herself. Her sister was in the middle of a warzone in the aftermath of a bombing where her medical services would obviously be needed. But, Addie was still concerned about her older sister. "I'm fine. You concentrate on staying safe, okay?"

Addie laughed. "_Of course. I have to go now. There's a line behind me about a mile long. I'll talk to you soon. _Te quiero a todos. _**(A/N: I love you all)**_"

"_Te quiero_, **(A/N: I love you)**" Greg, Maria, Alejandro and Gabriella all replied.

After a moment, Greg reached forward and pressed the hang up button on the phone. He looked at his wife and his two oldest children. "She's alive!" Greg reached for Maria and kissed her while Gabriella hugged Alejandro.

She turned to Troy and grinned. "Come here, Bolton, you're not escaping that easily." She brought him into a hug, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. "I wouldn't be here without you," she whispered. She pulled back, looking into his eyes, letting him know she was telling the truth.

Troy nodded with a smile. Before he could respond, though, Maria had already pulled him to his feet and was embracing him.

Maria pulled back and kissed him. "Isn't this fantastic?"

Troy laughed. "I'm truly happy for you, Mrs Montez."

She waved him away. "Oh, please, call me Maria."

Troy nodded. "Well, I guess I'll leave you all to celebrate. I should get back to Andy."

Maria frowned and shook her head. "You think you're going to miss out on a celebration like how we do it back in El Salvador? No. You're going to stay here and celebrate with us."

Troy looked towards Gabriella who shrugged. "Andy's a grown man, Troy. I don't think he'll mind you staying here for a while." She stood up. "Besides, it'll probably give him a chance to figure out why Steph's still not talking to him."

Troy laughed. "That's true." He looked at Maria, Greg and Alejandro. "My son's best friend, Steph, is in love with him, he doesn't know and so she's not talking to him and he doesn't know why," he exclaimed.

Alejandro rolled his eyes. "I sympathise. Women are too frustrating that way. Why can't they just tell you what you did wrong?"

Gabriella elbowed her brother. "Be careful. If Sarah finds out you said that, learn to sleep with your eyes open."

"Speaking of my wife, I should head off." He hugged his family and turned to Troy. "You're cool, man. I hope to see you again."

Troy laughed. "Same here."

Maria clapped her hands. "I have to cook _Carne Asada_." Before anyone could respond, Maria had bustled her way out of the room.

Gabriella touched Troy's arm. "It's a traditional dish from our home country, El Salvador. It's delicious and my mum's speciality. If you like steak or barbeques, you'll love this."

* * *

><p>Troy nudged Gabriella. "You said I'd enjoy this. This is the most delicious thing I've ever eaten." He looked across the dining room table at Maria. "This was amazing, Maria, I loved it." The table was covered with food and all of it was delicious. Troy had never been to El Salvador but the food that Maria made was certainly a good first impression. He couldn't help noticing that no alcohol was offered as drinks. It was either water, orange juice or coffee.<p>

Maria laughed. "I'm glad you enjoyed it."

Troy nodded. "Well, I did. And I'm truly glad that Addie is okay."

Greg grinned. "Aren't we all?"

Troy pushed his plate away. "I'd like to stay here and celebrate some more but I really should get home. Andy's twenty but the Lord knows he inherited my cooking skills."

"Next time, invite your son. We'd love to meet him," Maria said softly.

Troy smiled. He was always weary about explaining to people who Andy truly was. When people worked the maths out, did some simple sums and figured out that Troy had had Andy when he was Andy's age, people sometimes withdrew. They sometimes disapproved and judged. But the Montez's appeared to accept anybody, no matter their story, their past or if they just had the clothes on their back. As long as you respect them, they'll respect you.

"I'd like that, too," he murmured.

Gabriella pushed her chair back, getting to her feet. "I'll show you out."

Troy reached over the table to shake Greg's hand. "Thank you, Greg. It was really nice to meet you and I had a really good time."

Greg smiled and nodded. "_Usted__es__bienvenido en cualquier momento_."

Troy nodded unsurely and then shook Maria's hand. "Once again. It was a delicious meal, Maria, and I'm glad your daughter's safe."

"Come again, Troy," she said.

Gabriella gestured to the doorway. "Just through there." She followed Troy out of the house and shut the front door behind them. The summer night was drawing in as a slight chill settled in the air. Gabriella sat down on the low wall again, silently inviting Troy to do the same.

"I'm sorry about my family," she whispered. "They're sometimes embarrassing when they're celebrating."

Troy laughed. "They were awesome. And they just found out their daughter is still alive. I think that's a good enough excuse to be a little embarrassing."

Gabriella nodded. "I guess so."

Troy nudged her shoulder after a moment. "So you told Addie about me?"

Gabriella elbowed him in response. "She's my sister. I tell her everything."

"So what did you tell her, exactly?" he asked curiously.

She laughed. "Like I'd tell you."

Troy shrugged. "I should've expected that. Can I ask what your dad said to me back there? I didn't have a clue."

She smiled. "My dad is very proud of who he is and he expects us all to speak Spanish when it's just us. He was quite lenient today as you were there. But he still speaks Spanish to strangers when he's either angry or being sentimental."

"Which one was it?" Troy asked wearily.

Gabriella laughed. "He said you're always welcome here."

"Really?" he asked quietly. "I'm glad. I had a lot of fun."

Gabriella smiled to herself as she inspected her oil-stained fingers. "Thank you," she whispered.

Troy frowned. "What did I do?"

She shrugged and looked across at him. "I don't know. Coming here when I needed you to. Staying here when I needed you to. I just know that I should thank you."

Troy nodded slowly. "Well, you're welcome."

"I mean it," she muttered. "If you hadn't have come here, I would've been down the pub destroying my liver."

Troy wrapped his arm around her. "Well, you didn't do that, did you?" When she turned to face him, he kissed her. There was a subtle difference between this kiss and their previous ones. This kiss was less about reassurance. It was a simple expression of how Troy wanted to be with her. There was no lust. Simply want.

He pulled back and brushed her hair from her face. "I told you that you'd be okay."

"Yeah, yeah. I should listen to you more often," she murmured.

He chuckled. "Maybe you should. And on that note, I really should get home." They both stood up and faced each other. Before she could say anything, Troy was kissing her again. He was hesitant at first, unsure how much she wanted. But as her fingers dug into his shoulders, he knew she wanted him as much as he wanted her. His hands wove around her waist, resting on her lower back. He pulled back before he got too carried away. Gabriella pressed her forehead to his chest as she caught her breath. He held her in his arms, revelling in the way that her lips had felt against his, the feel of her body against his.

Gabriella lifted her head to look at him. "What was that for?"

He shrugged. "I wanted to?" he replied as more of a question. He let go of her and gestured with his thumb over his shoulder. "I need to go."

She nodded and waved her fingers at him. "I'll see you tomorrow."

He went to walk away but paused and turned back to him. "Hey, Brie?"

"Yeah?"

"Are we going to talk about..." he trailed off and instead gestured to the gap between them.

She smiled and shook her head. "Not tonight."

Troy nodded and scratched the back of his head, trying not to show how much she truly affected him. "Are you going to be okay?"

She laughed and gestured to her parents' house. "I'll crash here tonight. I'll be fine. And if I need you, I'll call you, I promise."

* * *

><p>"<em>Anyway, I just want to clarify that he was lying. I wasn't checking you out."<em>

_Gabriella smiled slightly as she leant against the bonnet of the 4x4, crossing one leg over the other. "Don't lie to me. I know you were."_

_Troy gaped at her. "How could you possibly know that?"_

"_You were burning holes in the back of my head," she exclaimed. "Oh wait. You weren't looking at my head, were you?" she teased._


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Happy Monday :) Please can you make the reviews amazing? Make me smile and laugh. I'm feeling kinda rough today... :\**

**Anyway, enjoy :D**

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><p><span>Chapter 14<span>

"...and I never liked him from the start," Jason Cross exclaimed.

Steph rolled her eyes and stared out of the window of the cafe that her father had brought her to. She'd hoped that spending some time with her father might take her mind off of Andy, even for just a little bit. She'd assumed, in her naivety, that Jason would stick to his usual repertoire of conversation topics: food, sports, and fishing. Of course, on the one day that Steph was relying on the topics that usually bored her to death, Jason changed tactics and decided to talk about Andy.

Her luck.

Why was everything so complicated? She loved Andy because of the exact opposite; he was simple. He didn't have any expectations or demands. He was just a happy man and she liked that. So often, the guys at uni wanted her to be a one night stand and nothing else. That's all she ever was. She was the girl next door and nothing else. Andy, though? He actually respected girls and tried to make relationships work. He didn't expect anything from the woman other than she should be herself.

"Steph, are you okay?" Jason asked quietly.

Steph couldn't help but smile genuinely at her father. For the twenty years that she'd been alive, he'd been clueless as to how women worked. How he'd been with her mother so long was a mystery to her. "I'm fine," she whispered. "Just annoyed, I guess."

"Well, like I say: I never did like Andy," Jason protested.

Steph shook her head, staring into her mug of lukewarm coffee. "You're lying. And it's okay. I don't mind. I just don't want to be invisible anymore. I don't want to be the girl he goes to when he just needs a buddy to watch football with. I want him to want to be with me all the time. And he just doesn't."

Jason nodded slowly. "Do you know what you're going to do?"

Steph shrugged. "Where Andy's concerned? I'm going to do nothing. The less complicated things stay, the better, considering graduation is just around the corner. But, after graduation, I'm going to Edinburgh. I know I said I wouldn't leave this place but I can't stay anymore. Besides, Edinburgh has species of starfish that we don't and it'll be amazing for my master's degree." She finished quietly, unsure how her father would take her confession. The words tasted strange on her tongue. Sure, she'd joked with Andy about doing her masters but she'd never actually said it out loud and meant it.

She meant it now.

Jason frowned. "Really? You're really going to do it?"

Steph shrugged. "Why not? You know how much I love the ocean and I really want to do this. Andy isn't even the reason why I'm going. I _stayed_ because Andy did. But now I'm leaving because I want to."

Jason nodded slowly. "What can I say to that? You've obviously made your mind up and your mother and I said we'd support you no matter what."

Steph rubbed her forehead. "Dad, can you promise me something?"

Jason shrugged. "I'll try."

Steph looked out of the window to look at the harbour, at the boat that her father loved so much. He loved it so much that he'd named it after her. It was something he loved so much and one of the few things he loved more than his boat could never go sailing because of how violently she became sea sick. No matter how many times she went on the ocean, nothing could cure her. Her dad's boat was his bid for freedom. It gave him strength because he knew that, should he wish to, he could just sail away. Of course, everyone knew he wouldn't. He needed Kelsi and Steph too much. And now, after almost twenty one years, her father was supporting her on her own bid for freedom.

She looked back at Jason. "Promise me that I'll find someone, someday. Whether it's Andy or someone else. I don't want to be alone."

Jasone broke out into a wide grin. "Oh, honey, you'll never be alone. Not in that way. I promise that you'll find someone. I promise."

Steph sighed. She hoped that he was right.

* * *

><p>"You okay, son?" Troy asked as he sat down at the table, a packet of crisps in hand.<p>

Andy shook his head slowly as his eyes fluttered closed. "I didn't sleep much last night," he muttered through a yawn.

Troy opened his packet of crisps and ate one. "I know. I heard you when you pottered around. It kept me awake." Of course, Troy wasn't going to admit to his son that the reason that he was awake had nothing to do with Andy's sleeping pattern. It was, in fact, everything to do with a certain brunette, Spanish-speaking, woman mechanic.

Andy shot Troy a sarcastic smile. "And still you wake up all chirpy and happy-go-lucky. I hate you."

Troy crunched on another crisp. "I'm flattered that you appreciate me bringing you up."

Andy stared in disbelief at his father who was, at that moment, more concerned with guzzling down every damn morsel in the packet of crisps than about his own son's welfare. "Aren't you going to ask me what's wrong?"

Troy looked at Andy and shrugged. "Let me guess: you're still confused about why Steph's not talking to you and you want me to tell you why she's ignoring you."

Andy folded his arms defiantly. "Damn you for knowing me so well."

Troy chuckled. "So have you figured anything out?"

The younger Bolton man scowled. "Nope. I haven't got a clue." He sighed. "Dad, Steph's my best friend. I don't want to live without her."

Andy's words had slowly but surely become a faint hum, like music that wasn't quite loud enough for you to identify the song. Troy had zoned out and, rather selfishly, deemed Andy's concerns unimportant. After all, Andy was a grown man. If Andy couldn't figure out why Steph was avoiding him, Troy was wasting money, paying for his son to get a university education.

Troy didn't mean to deem Andy's worries as unimportant. It was an unconscious thought process, triggered by a distraction. The distraction had caused Troy to forget all about his crisps and for the rest of the world to become a blur. The only thing that Troy could see and think about was the way that Gabriella was bent over the engine of a 4x4 and was swaying her hips to a song on the radio. It was a cheesy pop song that Troy was embarrassed to have play in his workplace. But it didn't seem to bother Gabriella. Her movements were jerky and out of beat. But Troy didn't care. She still looked as sexy as hell.

"Ow," he yelled when something collided with the back of his head. He turned to Andy as he clutched the back of his head. Andy was glaring at his father and holding one of his textbooks in his hand. "That hurt! Why did you do that?"

"Troy, are you okay?" Gabriella asked quietly as she turned to the two men, a spanner in hand.

Troy looked across at her and shrugged. "I'm fine. I just don't know why Andy just hit me over the head."

"You were completely ignoring me and was totally checking Gabriella out," he exclaimed.

Troy watched Gabriella as she self consciously tugged at her shorts. "Brie, I wasn't checking you out." He turned to Andy. "Go."

Andy frowned. "What?"

Troy shrugged as he tossed his half eaten crisps in the bin. "I want you to leave and only come back when you're happy."

Andy looked at his dad in disbelief. "Like the naughty step?"

Troy nodded. "Exactly like the naught step. Leave and don't come back until you're happy."

Andy sighed as he gathered his books. "Well, I'll see you later, then. Thanks for the help, Dad," he muttered as he trudged away.

Troy ran a hand through his hair. "I can't tell him that the reason Steph's ignoring him is because she's madly in love."

Gabriella tossed the spanner aside and shut the bonnet of the 4x4. She turned back to him as she wiped her hands on a rag she produced from her back pocket. "No you can't. He has to figure it out in his own. He might be confused and angry and frustrated. Who wouldn't be? It's hard enough to admit you're in love without adding the complication of being best friends. But, he's a smart kid. He'll be fine."

Troy nodded. "I know. But I worry. I hate seeing him like this."

She shrugged as she tucked the rag back into her pocket and then began tying her hair back up in the bandana she always wore. Troy watched her movements. They were quick and precise from daily practice. "Still, you have to leave him alone."

"I know," he muttered. "Anyway, I just want to clarify that he was lying. I wasn't checking you out."

Gabriella smiled slightly as she leant against the bonnet of the 4x4, crossing one leg over the other. "Don't lie to me. I know you were."

Troy gaped at her. "How could you possibly know that?"

"You were burning holes in the back of my head," she exclaimed. "Oh wait. You weren't looking at my head, were you?" she teased.

Troy chuckled as he stood up and brushed the crumbs from his clothes. "Alright, I see where this is going." He took the few steps towards her until he was less than a foot away. "Is Jamie still out for lunch?"

She shrugged. "I think so. Why?"

Troy closed the gap between them and, before she could protest, had captured her mouth with his. His arms wrapped tightly around her as hers wrapped around his neck. He couldn't help it. There was something about his stubborn, complicated but ever-sweet newest employee that had a heat spreading through his veins that he hadn't ever experienced before. It was want, it was lust, it was something that every human being, including him, experiences. But, beneath that, there was a pure animalistic desire that he'd never felt with a woman before.

Gabriella pulled back breathlessly and looked him in the eyes. "Can't you warn me before you kiss me like that?"

Troy smiled into her hair and let his fingers lightly touch her waist and hips, feeling her curves that he loved so much. "It's more fun this way."

Gabriella leaned back against the car to look up at him. "I should be scared, you know. I've been hurt before and I don't need any more complications. But with you, things aren't complicated. Things that shouldn't make sense do. It's insane. I should be scared," she repeated. She shrugged, looking up at him. "But, I'm not."

Troy sighed and brushed her hair from her face. "Well, I'm scared as hell."

She smiled slightly. "I've never dated my boss before."

He shrugged. "I've never dated an employee before."

"That's not fair," she protested. "Haven't you always employed men?"

"Maybe," he murmured.

She laughed and let a bright smile light up her face. "No special treatment?"

He chuckled. "Please. Like Jamie and Andy would let me give special treatment. They'd get way too jealous."

She nodded slowly. "Yeah. I'm thinking that Chad will fight me for you."

Troy gaped at her. "Brie, seriously, we're not in a bromance."

She laughed quietly. "Dude, he was looking at you more lovingly than he was at Taylor. Are you sure you're not gay?"

Troy chuckled and leaned down to brush his lips against hers. "The way you make me feel, I'm most definitely _not_ gay." He pulled back to look down at her. "Of course, I can only speak for myself. I haven't a clue about Chad."

Gabriella rolled her eyes. "Why didn't you want Jamie or Andy here when you kissed me? I've been here all morning, listening to Andy complain."

Troy quirked an eyebrow. "You have met my family, haven't you? Jamie wouldn't stop teasing me and Andy would pretend to throw up every two seconds because I'm his dad and I'm not supposed to kiss anybody."

Gabriella nodded slowly. "I get it," she whispered.

He kissed her temple. "Not for long. Just until we figure this thing out, okay?"

She looked up at him. "What's there to figure out?"

"I don't know," he muttered. "I guess I need to figure out why you affect me so much."

She sighed. "Don't worry, I have things to figure out for me, too."

* * *

><p>"<em>Anyway, are you doing anything tonight?"<em>

_Troy quirked an eyebrow. "You should by know by now that my social calendar is packed," he said sarcastically. "No, I'm not doing anything. Why?"_

"_Well," she began, "I woke up this morning to a rather long, specific explanatory text from Sharpay. She wants us to have tea with them this evening. She said smart, casual. In Sharpay terms, that means I'll be wearing a dress and you in jeans and a dress shirt." She paused. "You do have a dress shirt, right?"_

_He rolled his eyes. "Give me some credit."_


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Happy Monday :D**

**So, I'd like to dedicate this to a few reviewers who totally made my day when I saw what they wrote.**

**smartgirl231814 - Our newest reviewer. She seems to be enjoying this story so far and I hope she sticks around :D  
>Juli93 - Thanks for your super sweet review. My day certainly was better afterwards :) And I'm glad you loved everything<br>****Bluebell140 - Wow. Thanks for saying I'm an amazing writer. That made my entire day. Thank you so much :D  
>batzmary - Your review made me laugh :)<strong>

**Thank you so much, you guys :D I'm not sure if I'd still be around here if it wasn't for you. You know, me writing started out as escapism. I didn't like the life I had so I wrote a life that I did. But then it became more than that. I read your reviews every week and remember that I have all of you guys reading this stuff. You guys keep me going.**

**On a side not: I've hit a teensy, tiny writer's block on Chapter 21 but hopefully it'll be on its way soon :D**

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><p><span>Chapter 15<span>

_Everything was calm. Andy lay back in the little rowing boat and let the small, subtle movements of the ocean assist in calming his heart rate. The worry wasn't there. All of his life, he'd worried for someone. Mostly his dad. But, more recently he worried for Steph. He hadn't realised he'd worried so much until he _wasn't_ worrying. It was nice to not be preoccupied with something._

_Andy opened his eyes and watched the clouds for a moment. It took him back to his childhood where he and Steph would lie in her back garden and try to spot different shapes in the clouds. At the moment, all he could see were cotton wool balls. Perhaps it was the child imagination that would let him see cars and lions and dragons._

_He had to smile to himself. Steph got seasick so easily she wouldn't even be able to cope with the slight movements the ocean was currently making. The only time she wasn't seasick was when she went scuba diving and then she was so excited to be with the fish she loved so much, she didn't think about anything else._

_The silence was broken by a beautiful Soprano operatic voice sending wonderful music his way. He wasn't a fan of opera. He never had been. When he was a teenager, he'd found a love for the band My Chemical Romance and his music taste hadn't varied much since. But this voice was captivating him in ways that MCR never had. That was it. It wasn't the song. It was the voice. He thought he heard glimpses of French but he didn't know. It had been over five years since he'd studied French. Then again, he didn't particularly care about the song. He didn't care about what it meant. All he cared about was how wonderful the voice made him feel._

_The voice._

_The voice was a drug. It reminded him of when he was seventeen and had smoked a joint of cannabis for the first and last time. A friend had persuaded him to try it. His dad didn't know but Steph did and she hadn't told anybody. Andy had stayed away from drugs and cigarettes ever since but he could still remember feeling happy and free and completely at ease with the world._

_He remembered learning that there were myths that mermaids would sing to sailors out at sea and lure them to their doom and they'd eventually die. But, even if he did die, however much he didn't want to, he didn't care particularly. The voice was worth it._

_He sat up in the boat only to see a girl looking up at him from the mysterious depths. Her arms were propped over the edge of the boat to help her to float. The setting sun was behind her, making her a simple silhouette and preventing him from seeing her facial features. But despite this, he knew she was beautiful. The sunlight made her the water droplets on her hair and skin sparkle and from what he could see, she was completely naked._

_She wasn't moving her lips, but he knew one thing: the voice belonged to her._

Andy started in his bed in a tangle of sweaty sheets. Finding himself alone in his room, a place he was familiar with, made him pause and let his heart rate slow down. He'd often joked about the British education system causing insanity. But now he actually believed it. He didn't remember dreams very often. But when he did, they didn't vary much from him playing a superhero. So what the fuck was he doing dreaming about mermaids?

He grabbed a pillow and pulled it over his face, hoping it would bring some sort of sense to his life. His life had been okay before Gabriella had shown up. He wasn't blaming Gabriella. Actually, if it wasn't for Gabriella, he'd be worrying about Troy a whole lot more on top of his worry and confusion about Steph. Still, he didn't need this. He needed answers. He needed to know why Steph was avoiding him.

He took the pillow from his face and looked at his alarm clock. 1AM. Just great.

He couldn't get the girl from his dream out of his head. There was a familiarity about her but he couldn't put his finger on it.

Sitting up, he reached for the switch of his bedside lamp and let a dim light flood the room. Dim or not, it still hurt his half-asleep eyes. He'd been so deprived of sleep recently that the small light produced by his lamp made him feel like he had endured days of drinking and was now suffering the mother of all hangovers. He rubbed his eyes, attempting to either fall back to sleep or to become more awake.

A couple of aspirin later and Andy was sat on his bed, wide awake. His headache was still there, thumping in his head like the bass of a nightclub, but it was duller, not as harsh as when he'd first woken up.

Knowing that the chances of him falling back to sleep were rather slim, he moved across to his desk and switched his laptop on. He ran a hand through his dishevelled blonde hair while his computer loaded. Never had he expected to be so worked up over a woman not talking to him. But this was Steph. She wasn't just any woman. She was the woman who had always been there for him. But now she wasn't.

And that scared him.

He sat forward when his laptop slowly came to life. When the internet had loaded and the facebook newsfeed greeted him, he checked to see who was online. It was actually quite amusing for him to see that there were still other people wasting their brain cells on the social networking site. The others were mostly preoccupied with uploading drunken statuses. But, Andy smiled when he saw the profile picture of his friend, Ben Owens. They'd known each other since they were eleven and, next to Steph, he was Andy's best friend.

Andy opened a conversation box and began typing a message to his friend.

**Hey, man. Still suffering from insomnia?**

_Wow. Such a sense of humour at such an early hour. Or is it a late hour? You know as well as I do that I never stopped being an insomniac._

**For me, it's early. And that's very true.**

_What's your excuse? You can't complain about being an insomniac._

Andy sighed and let his fingers hover over the keyboard. Could he really tell Ben about his dream? Could he tell Ben about his worries about Steph? What the hell. At one in the morning, he was past caring.

**Woke up after a dream. Actually, I'm starting to believe it was a nightmare.**

_What was it about?_

Andy took a deep breath and began typing a summarised version of his dream. The less he thought about it, the less he would analyse it and the less Ben would tease him about it.

_Right. Well, maybe it's symbolic of, you know, you needing to take a break from everything. You've always had a lot to deal with. I don't know. I'm not big on dreams._

**Maybe. Who knows? It just freaked me out. Have you heard from Steph?**

_No. I haven't heard from her recently. Any reason?_

**She's not talking to me. At all. And I don't know why.**

_Wow. You two not talking? Something must be terribly wrong._

**You're telling me. I don't want to lose her, man. She's been the one person I've always been able to count on. Why is she mad at me?**

_Dude, I'm in Leeds. How will I know?_

**You're supposed to make me feel better, you know.**

Andy frowned when a popup window informed him that Steph Cross had just signed in. Upon instinct, he clicked on it, opening a conversation with her, and typed 'hi' as a greeting to her. He realised what he was doing and paused before he sent it to her. He had so many questions for her. And he was a guy. He and Troy had often joked that the Y chromosome entitled men to the ability to put their foot in their mouths. The possibility of Andy doing that was insanely high in that moment. He wanted to apologise for what he'd done. The only problem was that he didn't actually know what he'd done.

Oh well.

**Hi**

_Hey Andy._

**How have you been? I haven't seen you around much.**

_I'm fine. I'm sorry that I seemed to have fallen off the face of the earth. I've been sort of dealing with something._

**Is everything okay?**

_I'm fine. Listen, next weekend, my parents are out of town visiting my grandparents and I'd really like you to come around for tea. I actually have something to tell you. It's something that may sound small to a lot of people but it's really big for me and I want to tell you in person._

**Sure. I can go to your place next weekend. I'd like that. Are you sure you're okay?**

_I'm fine._

**Can I ask you a question? Why are you awake? I've known you over twenty years and never once have you functioned on anything but eight hours of sleep.**

Andy watched the little icon signalling she was typing. He expected to see a rather long explanatory message as to why she was awake and maybe even why she wasn't talking to him. Instead, she wrote one word.

_Nightmares._

* * *

><p>"You're staring at me again," Troy murmured.<p>

Gabriella, who was sat cross-legged on the table, averted her eyes back to her book. "I'm allowed to," she replied shyly. Sure, they knew how the other felt, but being caught checking him out brought out the shy teenage girl inside of her.

Troy chuckled as he turned away from the Peugeot engine he'd been fixing. He smiled at her as he wiped his hands on a rag. "I know. I just thought you'd like to know that's the sixth time I've felt you staring at me and it's not even one yet."

Gabriella could feel the heat rise in her neck as she frowned up at him. "Six times? Really?"

Troy nodded as he stuffed the rag into his back pocket and took the few short steps towards her. "Yep. Somebody can't keep her eyes to herself."

"At least I keep my hands to myself," she murmured as she turned back to her book.

Troy gaped at her. "Hey! It was one time and you'd just walked into work and you were looking ridiculously hot in those shorts."

She shrugged. "I'm just glad neither Andy nor Jamie saw. _You_ would never hear the end of it. Anyway," she murmured, looking up at him, "how's Andy today?"

Troy sat down on a chair in front of her and sighed. "Don't ask. When I left this morning, I checked on him in his room and he was asleep at his laptop. So who know what he was doing last night?"

Gabriella gave him a sad smile. She shut her book and reached forward for his hand. "Let's not talk about that."

He nodded. "It seems like all I talk about nowadays is Andy which sucks because I have better things to talk about considering we just got together."

She squeezed his hand. "Like what?"

"Like have you heard from Addie?" he asked.

Gabriella shook he head. "No. I didn't expect to. We only hear from her every few weeks. If we're lucky. I think the next time we hear from her will be when she comes home."

"When's that?"

She smiled. "Thirty four days."

"You counting?" he asked quietly.

She nodded. "It gives me something to look forward to instead of worrying all the time. Anyway, are you doing anything tonight?"

Troy quirked an eyebrow. "You should by know by now that my social calendar is packed," he said sarcastically. "No, I'm not doing anything. Why?"

"Well," she began, "I woke up this morning to a rather long, specific explanatory text from Sharpay. She wants us to have tea with them this evening. She said smart, casual. In Sharpay terms, that means I'll be wearing a dress and you in jeans and a dress shirt." She paused. "You _do_ have a dress shirt, right?"

He rolled his eyes. "Give me some credit."

"Okay, okay," she laughed. "Zeke and Shar want to meet you when I'm not hysterical and not hungover either. Zeke's making his chicken salad and crème brulée. It's to die for."

"You told them we're together, didn't you?" he murmured.

She shrugged. "I wouldn't word it _exactly_ like that. More like having a best friend who knows you too well and guessed that you're in the early stages of a relationship with your boss."

He quirked an eyebrow.

"Seriously!" she protested. "I didn't actually say the words 'I'm going out with Troy'. She guessed."

He smiled and leaned forward to kiss her. "I'll pick you up at seven?"

"Better make it half six. Shar doesn't like people who are late," she explained.

He chuckled. "She's never met a Bolton before."

* * *

><p><em>"Brie, you know Andy is everything to me, don't you?"<em>

_Gabriella shrugged as she began unfolding the dress she had arrived in. She smiled across the bed at him. "Of course. Someone would have to be either blind or inhuman to not see that. Why?"_

_He turned away from her so that she could get changed. "If you're willing, I'd like you to tell Andy about you being an alcoholic..."_


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: Well, here's your update. It was kinda fun to write. A bit of Troyella fluff :D Still having problems with chapter 21 :( Oh well. I'll figure it out. 10 days until my exam results :O *fingers crossed***

**Please make me smile :) I hope you smile at this :) Enjoy**

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 16<span>

Before Troy could comprehend what was happening, Gabriella had disappeared from his side and was now in Sharpay's arms. He stood there, realising that as old as he was, he'd never understood women. And as much as he wanted Gabriella, he knew she wasn't any different. He watched, half with amusement and half with confusion, as Gabriella and Sharpay's conversation slowly became woman-babble. He heard 'dress', 'cake' and 'fitting'. Other than that, he didn't have a clue.

Zeke chuckled as he patted Troy's shoulder. "Don't worry. Like I said before, you get used to it."

Troy nodded slowly as he watched Sharpay usher Gabriella through to another room. He followed Zeke through to the kitchen. "Are they always like this?"

Zeke chuckled as he switched the kettle on. "Hell yeah. If Gabi ever takes you out with knowledge that Shar will be there too and Gabriella tells you she won't leave you, don't believe her."

Troy smiled. "I'll bear that in mind."

"I assume coffee's alright?" Zeke asked absentmindedly as he poured boiling water into two mugs.

Troy nodded, looking around the spotless kitchen. "Yeah, that's fine. Ever since Brie told me of her _problem_, I've been wearier of alcohol. I want to tell my son." He wandered over to the far counter and picked up a framed photo of Sharpay and Gabriella. They were perhaps in their early twenties, both in bikinis on a beach somewhere. Gabriella was perhaps a little slimmer, a little less rough around the edges, but Troy couldn't believe how beautiful she'd always been. And now, she was all his.

Troy sighed and looked across at Zeke. "I mean, he's been really down recently. I don't want him to be like Brie. Don't misunderstand me. I love her despite, and maybe even because, of her problem. I wouldn't have her any other way. I know that Andy's smart. He knows the effects of alcohol. I'm just not sure what he'll do while he's feeling this way. And I'm not sure he quite understands the reality of the long term effects of alcohol."

Zeke handed Troy a steaming mug of coffee. He looked sombre as he sipped his own coffee. "She won't mind," he finally murmured. "She's talked about Andy to us and she knows that he's your world. She won't mind you telling people as long as it's within reason and you don't plaster it over the whole town, you know?"

Troy nodded slowly as he set the picture back on the counter. He gazed at Gabriella's face, frozen at a time of spontaneity, happiness and freedom. "I get it. We both have things that we'd prefer people not to know. I wouldn't do that to her. I'll talk to her about it later on."

Zeke smiled softly. "You're good for her, you know. She's been unsure of people for a really long time. I don't want to call it trust issues. But, it's pretty much that. She's had a few relationships but she's always left before they could learn about her problem. Perhaps you learnt more out of circumstances than out of choice. But she didn't run in the opposite direction when you did learn it. That's a good sign."

Troy chuckled. "I'm surprised that Andy, in all of his glory, didn't chase her away. He's quite a charmer considering the girl who likes him is currently giving him the silent treatment," he said sarcastically.

Zeke laughed and took a long sip of his coffee. "We've had a day by day account of that saga."

Troy's brow furrowed. "Why?"

"I think it's more to do with Gabriella avoiding Shar's questions about you more than anything," Zeke murmured.

Troy laughed and nodded. "I get that impression." His laughter died down and he looked at Zeke curiously. "Can I ask a question?"

Zeke shrugged. "Sure."

"I'm sorry if I'm intruding but I'm curious. Why are you and Shar getting married now? From what Brie says, you've been together forever," Troy mumbled.

Zeke paused for a moment. "I don't know," he whispered. "I mean, we'd survived the long distance relationship part as we went to uni on opposite sides of the country and it was kind of a given that we'd be together for a really long time. But, I was setting up my cafe and Shar was setting up her boutique and we didn't quite have the time or the money to do it. Then, things got complicated and it wasn't quite fair for us to do it. Better late than never, though, right? I mean, having kids was never a priority for us. Our philosophy was that if it happened, it happened. But we just wanted to be together."

Troy nodded slowly. "Must be great to have met the person you wanted forever at a young age."

Zeke frowned. "Was Andy's mother never an option?"

Troy laughed and shook his head. "Hell no. We were never supposed to be together. And I'm glad we weren't. Without her, I can have Brie all to myself."

Zeke had to smile to himself. He looked back at the picture of his fiancée and his best friend. "At least I know that one of my girls is in good hands. I'm still sceptical as to whether I'm the best option for Shar or not."

Troy quirked an eyebrow.

Zeke faltered. "That's not to say that Gabi isn't yours."

Troy chuckled. "Do you know what? She isn't mine. I have to share her with everyone else she keeps close to her. But that's okay. I want to be involved in her life and I want to be involved with her family."

Zeke gave the other man a small smile. He liked Troy, her really did. With the men that Gabriella had been involved with in the past, Zeke had always found a reason to dislike them. But with Troy, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't help but like him.

He smiled and patted Troy on the shoulder. "Don't worry, mate. You'll fit in around here just fine."

* * *

><p>"Shar," Gabriella gasped, "I can't breathe."<p>

Sharpay sighed and looked over her friend's shoulder to look in the floor length mirror in front of them. "Yes, but the dress looks much better like this. There's more emphasis on your chest and it highlights your curves."

Gabriella gave Sharpay a look of disbelief. "Do you want me to pass out at your wedding? I'd like to be breathing when you finally tie the knot." She breathed out gratefully when Sharpay let go of the material of the dress. "Besides," she murmured, "there's only one guy I want to be admiring my chest and my curves."

"And he'll be able to. He's coming to the wedding, right?" Sharpay asked as she fiddled endlessly with the bodice of the dress.

Gabriella shrugged. "I don't know. I guess that's up to you as you're the one in the white dress."

"Well, if you want him to appreciate this dress in all its glory in the way I intended it to look, I think he'd better come," she replied.

Sharpay smiled as she continued fiddling with the dress. Predictably, her first choice had been having her bridesmaids in hot pink. But Gabriella had put her foot down. Not only did she despise that particular shade of pink, but the dress that Sharpay had made in preparation had looked particularly unflattering on Gabriella. So, Sharpay had settled for baby pink instead.

"I still think it should be tucked at the back," she muttered as she tugged the material in a bit.

"Shar," Gabriella warned. "I'm serious. If I can't breathe at your wedding, I'm not going to be there."

Sharpay sighed and released the material. "Fine."

"Besides," Gabriella muttered, "what happened to making the bridesmaids look ugly so that the bride looks beautiful?"

Sharpay turned her friend so that they were facing each other. "You're my best friend, you know. I know I sometimes come across a bit strong but I know that you know me. I want you to be comfortable when I say 'I do' and preferably conscious, too."

Gabriella smiled. "I know. I feel bad, though, because you want the perfect wedding."

Sharpay rolled her eyes. "Please. You are way more important than some stupid bridesmaid's dress. Even if Zeke and I were getting married in a sleazy chapel in Vegas by an Elvis impersonator, I'd want you there."

Gabriella hugged her best friend. "And I'd be there." She pulled back to look at her friend's face. "I wouldn't miss your wedding for the world."

Sharpay stood back, admiring her handy work. Spaghetti straps, a white ribbon around the waist and the skirt of the dress fell to just below the knee. Overall, it was rather simple compared to her other creations. And although it would be perfect if it was tucked at the back a little more, she wasn't going to force her best friend to hold her breath. As always, Gabriella looked stunning. Sharpay motioned for her to do a twirl. "Give us a spin."

Gabriella laughed as she spun in a circle, her long ponytail, tied with a bandana, fell over her shoulder. "What do you think?"

Sharpay pulled her into an embrace. "I'm so glad I have you." She pulled back. "You look amazing."

"It's all down to you," Gabriella laughed.

Sharpay gave her a small smile when she saw Gabriella's bandana tied around her wrist. "Have you told him?"

Gabriella sighed as she twisted the bandana around her wrist. "No. It's not something I willingly bring up in conversations, is it? I know he knows about my addiction which is probably way more baggage in a relationship than this," she paused to show Sharpay her wrist, "will ever be. But, this is personal. It's something I want to share with him. I mean, I want him to know me for who I am. But I can't seem to face telling him."

Sharpay squeezed her friend's hand. "It'll be okay, you know. From what I've seen, there's nothing that you could tell him that could chase him away."

There was a knock at the door and a moment later, it opened a crack. "Are you both decent?" Zeke called.

Gabriella and Sharpay both laughed. "We're both dressed. Come on in," Sharpay replied.

Zeke stepped inside, followed by Troy. "I was wondering if you two ladies were ready for food."

Sharpay nodded. "Sure, we are." She couldn't help but notice the way that Troy was looking at Gabriella. "Hey, honey, do you want some help with that thing?"

Zeke frowned. "What?"

"The _thing_," Sharpay emphasised, sending her fiancé a well earned Sharpay-glare. When Zeke continued to look confused, she pushed his shoulder. "Go." She marched Zeke out of the room and shut the door, leaving Troy and Gabriella alone.

Troy approached Gabriella and looked her up and down. He took her hand and slowly spun her around. "What happened to your blue dress?"

Gabriella shrugged. "Shar wanted a dress fitting. What do you think?"

Troy smiled to himself. "You look beautiful."

"I didn't expect you to say that," she said sarcastically but sent him a teasing smile.

He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. I love looking at you, give me a break."

Gabriella nodded slowly. "I know this." She paused. "Do you own a suit? Preferably one that fits."

He rubbed his eyes as he concentrated on the items of clothing he owned that weren't jeans, shirts or filthy t-shirts that he wore for work.

Gabriella hit his arm. "Don't hurt yourself," she exclaimed.

Troy looked at her between his fingers. "I'm thinking."

She sighed. "It's not important. It doesn't matter. It's fine." She let go of his hand and went over to the bed where she had discarded her bag.

Troy stepped closer and hesitated for only a moment before he wrapped his arms around her from behind. "Why do you want to know?"

Gabriella quickly checked her phone, finding messages from Alejandro and Greg about something Maria had said about football. Without question, Gabriella was on Maria's side. She felt Troy's fingers dig gently into her hips and his breath brush against the skin of her neck. Just that slight touch would, to a lot of women, seem insignificant and not at all meaningful, let alone arousing. But, to Gabriella, that small touch sparked that wonderfully addictive heat that spread through her veins. She could feel her heartbeat quicken and her knees weaken. Perhaps she should've been scared about how much Troy affected her. It was an alien sensation and she was unsure where the whole thing was heading. But what she said to Troy was true: she wasn't scared. In fact, she liked the way he made her feel. She wanted more of him.

Still, she attempted to act nonchalant, despite how it was likely that Troy would see through her act. She swallowed hard to try to regulate her breathing. "Shar said you can come to the wedding."

Troy smiled against her shoulder. "Do you want me to go?"

Gabriella dropped her phone on to the mattress and turned around to face him. "I don't mind. I mean, I'd like it. I'll be surrounded by their family and although I love Shar and Zeke, I don't know their families that well."

"I'll go," Troy murmured. "And I'll buy a good suit, I promise."

Gabriella leaned up on her tiptoes to kiss him softly. "Thank you." She turned to ace away from him. "Would you be able to unzip me?"

Troy swallowed hard and stepped forward the pull the zip down the back of the dress. His fingers skimmed the bare skin of her back. "Brie, you know Andy is everything to me, don't you?"

Gabriella shrugged as she began unfolding the dress she had arrived in. She smiled across the bed at him. "Of course. Someone would have to be either blind or inhuman to not see that. Why?"

He turned away from her so that she could get changed. "If you're willing, I'd like you to tell Andy about you being... I mean, you don't have to, I would never tell someone without your consent. But, I know how badly this Steph situation is getting to him and I don't want things to spiral out of control."

Gabriella pulled the blue dress she'd worn originally over her head and proceeded to lay the bridesmaid's dress neatly on the bed. She turned around and sighed. "Could you zip me up, please?"

"Sure," Troy muttered. He pulled the zipper up and before she could avoid the question even more, he grabbed her hand and pulled her towards him. Normally, having her in such close proximity would have his male hormones in overdrive and he'd just want to kiss her, to hug her, to touch her in any way. But in that moment, he didn't care about his selfish sexual desires. He just cared about her. "I know it hurts. Just be honest with me: will you do it? As much as I care about Andy and I'll do anything to make sure he's safe, I'm not going to make you do something that makes you upset or uncomfortable."

Gabriella sighed. "I don't know. Telling you was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. I was afraid of so many things that day. I realised that I'd relapsed and I was afraid I wouldn't be able to stop. I was afraid that you'd judge me and fire me." She averted her eyes. "Of course, none of that happened."

"And I wouldn't let that happen. What you have, Brie, isn't a disability. I don't look at you any different than if you weren't an alcoholic," he murmured.

She nodded slowly as she looked up at him. "I know. If I do this, if I tell Andy, I'm going to need you there. I don't tell people. I don't let people find out about it. I just don't let that happen. So, I've never sat down and voluntarily told someone. I'm going to need all the help I can get."

Troy laughed. "You think I'd let you do something like that alone? Brie, look at me." He waited until her eyes were locked on his. "I want you to be in my life more than I've wanted anything in a long time. I think the only thing I've ever wanted more than you is for Andy to be safe. I want you in my family and Andy's a part of that. I won't force you to do this. But it would mean a lot if you did."

Gabriella sighed. "And you'll stay with me while I tell him?"

"I'll do anything you want me to," he murmured.

She finally nodded. "Okay. I'll tell him."

* * *

><p>"<em>Gabriella," he whispered.<em>

_She twisted her head to look at him. "What?"_

"_Zeke said you push people away before they can know about your addiction. Please don't shut me out because I know," he murmured, a pleading tone lacing his voice._


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: This chapter was pretty amazing to write. Ummmm...On Thursday, I get my exam results and I'll know where (or if) I'm going to university. If it's good news, I shall post another chapter. Chapter 21 is still a big writer's block so this story MAY have to go on hiatus in a few weeks :\**

**Enjoy :D**

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 17<span>

"Dad, I'm home," Andy called.

Gabriella looked over from the kitchen sink and waved at Andy with her wet, soapy hands. "Hey. There's some leftover pasta in the microwave if you haven't eaten," she offered.

Andy dropped his bag by the settee and approached the kitchen. "Do you mind me asking why you're in our flat, doing our washing up?"

Gabriella laughed as she set a saucepan on the dish rack. "Well, your father invited me over for tea. He said that as I'm a guest, I shouldn't help with cooking or cleaning. However," she exclaimed as she rested her hands on the edge of the sink, "he started complaining about how he needed a shower. He wouldn't shut up so I sent him for a shower without any arguments."

Andy smiled as he began re-heating the pasta. "Sounds about right. Is it a special occasion in order for Dad to invite you home? Not that I don't want you here. But he never brings women home. Ever."

Gabriella paused as she reached for a dishcloth and began drying her hands. "Well, there's no reason. We finished work early and we wanted to spend some time together." She began drying the dishes and crockery. She glanced at Andy. "Andy, it was just pasta. No big deal."

"Hey! It _is_ a big deal." He took the heated pasta out of the microwave and set it on the island counter. "You do know that Dad fancies you, don't you?"

Gabriella had to occupy herself with stacking plates away in cupboards so that Andy wouldn't see her blush. She couldn't help the heat that spread through her body when she recalled exactly _how_ she and Troy had spent time together before they'd had dinner. They hadn't gone all the way. It was too early for that. They had simply held each other and kissed, revelling in the peacefulness that they hadn't yet experienced as a couple. "Andy, I'm almost forty. I know when a man fancies me."

He quirked an eyebrow. "And what about you?"

Gabriella finally turned to him and tugged unsurely at her shorts. How could she possibly tell Troy's son that they were together? It wasn't a conversation she'd ever had before and she wasn't sure that even Troy had had this kind of conversation, either. "Well, I like your father. I try to keep personal and professional lives separate but I guess that doesn't always happen." She suddenly paused and stepped closer. "Andy, have you been drinking?" she asked quietly. There was a subtle change in the air. Before his arrival, the air had smelt mostly of pasta and the Tesco's own brand of lemon-scented washing up liquid. Now, though, there was a hint of the tell-tale smells of a typical English pub that clung to your hair and clothes for days: grease, tobacco smoke, and alcohol.

He shrugged as he began tucking into his pasta. "A few of my friends are going back home before graduation so a couple of us went out for a few beers." He glanced up at her. "Is that okay?"

Gabriella quickly turned away and busied herself with wiping down the sink. "It's none of my business. I'm just your dad's...employee."

Andy was quiet for a moment before he opened a cupboard. Gabriella could see out of the corner of her eyes as he poured himself a shot of whiskey and downed it in one go. The familiar enticing scent lured her in until she could almost feel the whiskey itself burning its way down her throat. It was so easy for her mind to tell her that it would only be one drink, one shot of whiskey, and then she'd stop.

_But you won't stop, will you?_ Her conscience taunted her.

Andy followed her gaze and slid a shot of whiskey across the counter towards her. "Have one?"

She shook her head and looked away. "No thank you. I, uh, I can't drink."

Before Andy could question her use of 'can't' instead of 'don't', a loud, rather girlish scream emanated from Troy's room. Gabriella and Andy glanced at each other before they rushed across the living room and burst into the adjoined bedroom.

Gabriella had to smile when she saw the man that she was attracted to dressed only in a towel around his waist, stood precariously on the armchair in the corner of his room, shaking like a leaf. "Troy, what's wrong?"

He pointed a shaking hand to his bed. "There's a spider. Under the duvet," he gasped.

Gabriella and Andy shared a glance as she stepped forward and pulled the duvet back. She spied a small money spider scurrying among the mass of sheets. "Come here, Barney." She coaxed the spider into her hands and headed towards the window.

"Dad," Andy groaned, "you really need to get over this. It's not good to have a woman rescue you all the time."

Once he was sure Barney was outside, he slowly got down from the chair. "Gabriella doesn't mind rescuing me, do you?"

Gabriella folded her eyes and looked Troy up and down. She took a moment to appraise his long legs, slim hips, and muscular chest. His body was firm, his muscles pronounced; the body of a labourer. The sunlight flooded in from the window, catching the water droplets that still clung to his chiselled body, making him look as if he was made from crystal. She quirked an eyebrow. "Don't I?"

"Aw, come on, Brie. I love you," he murmured. A teasing tone laced his voice but a moment later, an icy look glazed over his eyes as if realisation had just dawned. Sure, it was meant as a joke. But the other possible implications suddenly made him feel self conscious. It wasn't like he actually did love her.

Right?

She broke the awkwardness by nudging his shoulder. "I know you do. Let's just call this my thanks for helping me the other week."

Andy rolled his eyes. "Jesus. Dad, you'll be needing a cold shower if you two don't stop flirting with each other. I have re-heated pasta to finish."

When Andy had closed the door, Troy and Gabriella burst out laughing. Troy pulled her into his arms and smiled into her hair. "Was he grumpy because of Steph or because I'm acting exactly the way he does?"

Gabriella's smile slipped slightly as she leaned back to look at him. "He's been drinking. I-" She cut off sharply and sighed. "He was drinking whiskey out there. I'm not sure what I'd have done if you hadn't screamed rather loudly and femininely when you did."

Troy frowned. "Brie, I'm sorry."

She shook her head. "It's not your fault. You didn't know. It's why I'm here, really, isn't it?"

He smiled and kissed her forehead. "Well, nothing happened, did it? And how can I possibly thank you for rescuing me?"

"You don't have to," she whispered. "I told you: this is my thank you for not running away when I needed someone."

Troy's lips curled up in a smile and a moment later, his lips were pressed against hers in a passionate kiss. His arms tightened around her, pulling her closer to his body. Her arms wrapped around his neck, clinging to him as if her life depended on it. She'd been with a fair few other guys. But she'd never been with someone who made her feel like her addiction didn't have to run her life anymore. He made her heart race, her knees buckle and, overall, made her feel like a teenager.

Gabriella pulled back when she felt something hit her feet. "You've lost your towel, haven't you?"

Troy couldn't help but laugh. "Yeah. I have." He bent down to pick it up, wrapping it back around his waist.

Gabriella rolled her eyes and patted his chest as she walked past. "Get dressed."

Before she could leave, Troy said, "What I said before, about me loving you, it was a joke."

Gabriella nodded slowly. "Don't worry, Troy. I got it."

* * *

><p>When Troy emerged from his room in some old jeans and an old grey t-shirt, he found Andy sat on the couch drinking a bottle of beer and Gabriella in the kitchen wiping down the counters. You didn't have to be a rocket scientist to know she was simply preoccupying herself. He headed over to her and stood behind her. He began gently massaging her shoulders.<p>

"You okay?" he murmured.

She sighed and closed her eyes for a moment, revelling in his touch. "I'm fine."

"You're still okay with this?" he asked quietly as he slowly turned her to face him.

She gave a small smile and nodded. "I'll be fine."

Troy nodded and kissed her lips. "You will be," he whispered as he took her hand and led her over to the couch. They sat quietly together, holding hands and watching the football game that Andy had put on TV.

After a few minutes of watching the sport that made Troy feel ashamed to be English, he reached for the remote and turned it off. "Andy, we need to talk."

Andy took a swig of beer and looked across at his dad. "I get it. You two are together. It's no big deal."

Troy and Gabriella glanced at each other. "I suppose we should've seen that one coming," he muttered. "It's not about that. Actually, it's mainly about Gabriella."

Gabriella could feel Troy's firmer grip on her hand. She'd never voluntarily told anyone before. The only times she had was when she had finally admitted to herself and to Alejandro that she had a problem and needed help. She honestly wasn't sure how to approach it. She'd been young once and suffered lectures by adults, warning about the effects of drugs and alcohol abuse. And at Andy's age, you honestly think you know everything and that all of the horror stories, such as hers, were just that: stories. Nothing that bad could ever happen to you, could it?

Gabriella frowned for a moment but before she could say anything, Andy was already talking again.

"Am I going to be an older brother? Because I'm really not ready for _that_," he exclaimed.

Gabriella smiled and shook her head. "I'm not pregnant, I promise." She sighed. "I want you to know that I'm telling you this because your dad's really worried about you."

Andy shrugged. "Okay?" he replied more as a question.

Gabriella took a deep breath. "I know what it's like to lose somebody. And I know that saying that never makes it any better. I know that when you're alone, you overanalyse things. Or, at least, I did. And I did a lot of things I've regretted now that I'm that much older." She looked directly at Andy. "Andy, I'm an alcoholic."

Andy suddenly let out a ring of laughter. "No you're not. You were drunk the other night."

She quirked an eyebrow. "And it's that easy for me to relapse." She rubbed her forehead. "I don't want to scare you. But I started the way you are right now: feeling lonely, blocking people out and drinking a few more beers than usual. And now here I am unable for me to have champagne at my wedding."

Andy stared at his beer bottle. "You're telling the truth?"

She nodded slowly. "Only a really sick person would lie about something like this." She fiddled with Troy's fingers. It was something to occupy herself with and he didn't seem to mind. "It took me a year to admit to myself and to my family that I had a problem. And I only really realised the truth when my brother burst into my flat and started yelling that he might as well buy a gun and end it for me. That's, ultimately, what I was doing. My brother looked terrified. And although I was completely plastered at the time, what he said got through to me."

Andy looked pensive as the words sunk in. "You had to be threatened by your brother to stop?"

She sighed and rubbed her eyes, reliving moments that truly scared her, down to her core. "Pretty much. I mean, I was going to die anyway. When I started getting help, I had to visit a doctor every so often. When I first saw him, he said that the way I'd been drinking, I'd either have poisoned myself to death or the damage I'd caused to my liver meant I probably wouldn't have seen my thirtieth birthday."

"And that all happened because you lost somebody?" Andy whispered.

Gabriella nodded slowly. "Yeah. I mean, my life was over. I didn't know what I could do. So I started to drink. I promise I'm not scaring you. Just...be careful. Drink is at its most powerful when you're feeling down. Take it from somebody who knows." She turned to Troy. "Can I go home, please?"

Troy kissed her temple. "Of course. Do you want to go and clean up in the bathroom?"

She gave him a small smile before she headed towards the door on the other side of the room. Troy ran a hand over his face. "You know why I asked Brie to tell you that, don't you?"

Andy placed his half bottle of beer on the coffee table. "I get it. I just don't know what to do, Dad. She actually spoke to me the other day. She's invited me over on Saturday so you and Gabi can have a date or whatever it is old people do these days."

Troy grabbed a cushion and threw it at Andy. "We are not old!" He glanced up to see Gabriella leaving the bathroom. "I'm going to walk Gabriella home."

* * *

><p>Gabriella sighed softly as she slid her hand into Troy's back pocket. "Well, I think we got through to him somehow," she muttered.<p>

"You got him thinking," he murmured in response, his arm locked around her shoulders. "Trust me, I can tell. Andy sometimes doesn't think I know him but I do."

She pondered that for a minute. "I hope this thing gets sorted out soon. I don't like seeing him like this."

"I'm not a big fan," Troy muttered. In the silence that followed, he felt her shiver, despite the slim denim jacket she had worn that day. He paused their walk and instinctively shrugged his rather large, thick sports jacket off. He draped it over her shoulders. He had to smile at the sight of her. His jacket drowned her. But there was something extremely endearing and almost arousing about seeing her in his jacket. "Better?" he murmured.

She nodded, snuggling into the jacket. "Much better."

They started walking again, Troy tucking her close to her body. They were mostly silent for the rest of the journey, with the only conversation being made from Troy who made the odd comment about the weather or a car or about his family. It was meaningless drivel, only said by him to fill the silence between them.

When they arrived outside her flat door, he grabbed her wrist, preventing her from unlocking her door. "Brie," he whispered.

She sighed and looked up at him. "What?"

"You're quiet," he pointed out. "Are you mad at me? Because if you are that's totally out of line. I gave you every chance to say no to me."

She leaned back against her door and tried to force a smile at him, but it came out as a rather pathetic grimace. "I know. I know you gave me the chance to say no and I appreciate it." She twisted her bandana around her wrist. "I'm not mad at you, I promise. You've done nothing wrong."

He frowned. "Then what is it? Something's wrong and I really don't like seeing you like this."

She bit her lip as she looked down at her rough, well-worn walking boots. The toes were scuffed, the souls had lost their grip ages ago, and the laces were fraying and two of the aglets were missing. She knew she'd need a new pair come the start of winter. Although Scarborough never got a lot of long-lasting snow, it was killer for frost and ice. She looked up at him and shrugged. "What do you want me to say? Troy, right now, I have my brother threatening me on repeat, reminding me exactly why I started drinking and if it wasn't for Alex, I'd be in a grave, okay? Just face that fact: if it wasn't for him, I wouldn't be here and we wouldn't be together. The thought that things could be so very different if it wasn't for Alex terrifies me. He saved my life and I'm scared that one day things are going to come crashing down and that all of his support and hard work will be for nothing." She shook her head and turned around to unlock her door. "I think you should go," she muttered as she slipped inside and leaned against the closed door.

It was only when she leaned her head back that she remembered that she had Troy's jacket. She could hear her own breathing coming out in deep, heavy pants, as if she'd just run a marathon. Somehow, it didn't feel like the breaths belonged to her. She didn't know why she was this worked up. Perhaps it was the fear that despite how Troy had his own complications and baggage, he'd never be able to manage hers.

A knocking from the other side of her door broke through her thoughts. "Brie, open up."

"No," she muttered, sure he'd never be able to hear her quiet voice.

Of course, his superhero powers came into place at that moment and seemed to have heard her perfectly. "Give me one good reason why not."

She paused. She really didn't have a good reason that justified blocking him out considering he knew one of her deepest, darkest secrets. She supposed it was the fact that through telling Andy, she had resurfaced the memories of _why_ she began drinking in the first place. They were memories with such a powerful pain that her breath was knocked from her chest and her knees buckled in weakness. The cruel irony of that is that Troy could bring the exact same effects on her. Only, she liked it when he did.

It should be easy for her to explain all of this to him, especially as there was a protective door between them, preventing her from seeing his reaction. But she knew that she couldn't. She couldn't because no matter how hard Troy would want to help, no matter how hard he would want to empathise, he would never be able to do that.

Instead of being adult enough to admit she _didn't_ have a reason why she shouldn't open the door, she resorted to being a child. "Because I don't want to."

She heard a muffled sigh. "Well, I'll stay out here until you do."

She frowned to herself as she turned around, bracing her hands against the door as she rose onto her tiptoes to look through the peephole. She saw Troy sat on the floor, leaning against the wall opposite her door. Perhaps she should've expected that. Not only did her love her, he was a father and a fucking stubborn one at that.

She slowly pulled her door open and looked down at him. He lifted his head to meet her gaze. "I'm sorry," she whispered. She paused for a moment before she stepped into the hall and sat down next to him. Upon instinct, they automatically reached for the other's hand.

"Gabriella," he whispered.

She twisted her head to look at him. "What?"

"Zeke said you push people away before they can know about your addiction. Please don't shut me out _because_ I know," he murmured, a pleading tone lacing his voice.

Gabriella squeezed his hand and shook her head, feeling the tell-tale pricks of tears gathering in her eyes. "I don't think I can shut you out. You mean too much to me."

He gave her a small smile and tilted his head towards hers to kiss her. "I'm sorry I made you remember all of that stuff," he whispered as he pressed his lips to her temple, her cheek, her neck, any patch of skin that he could reach.

Gabriella closed her eyes, focussing all of her attention, concentration, and her senses on the way that Troy's lips felt against her already-warm skin. A very small part of her was conscious of the fact that they were sitting out in the hallway where anyone could catch them. But then she remembered that the only other people who lived on her floor were Mr Jenson, an eighty-year-old man who only left his flat for an hour at lunch to get a paper and to feed the pigeons, and Jessie, a hairdresser who usually went out for a night on the town after work and didn't return until at least 12:30AM. The only other resident of her floor was Jay, a doctor. Young, good looking, and bordering on a nymphomaniac. She knew that if he caught her in this compromising position with Troy, he'd never let her live it down.

She'd never been good with discussing anything remotely sexual. Ever since she'd endured classes of sex education, her cheeks took on an automatic blush whenever it was mentioned. She just wouldn't be able to live with Jay's inevitable jokes about her and Troy. It was this thought that made her push herself up from the floor and look down at Troy. She could tell from his eyes that he feared that she was pushing him away again. It would be easy to rebuild the wall she'd carefully crafted around her heart.

But she held her hand out for him. It was a simple action passed between people, friends, couples, spouses, on a daily basis. And to the outside world, it was probably just that: holding hands. Perhaps Gabriella had convinced herself that she was simply avoiding Jay and his sexual obsessions. But, deep down, she knew that it was a silent invitation for Troy to be in her life. To _truly_ be in her life.

Troy got up, took her hand and was led into her flat. He vaguely heard the door being shut but he honestly didn't know. He didn't know because as soon as they were over the threshold, they were in a passionate embrace; two bodies moulding into one. His lips were massaging hers, their tongues duelling in a battle they never wanted to end. Troy's hands pulled at his jacket that was still wrapped around her until he heard the tell-tale faint thump that the jacket had fallen to the floor. He then worked on her own jacket, tugging on the sleeves until her arms were free.

Once that jacket, too, was crumpled at their feet, Gabriella gripped his neck, holding him to her as they stumbled backwards to the vague direction of the sofa. They tumbled over the arm, landing in a crumpled knot of human limbs, Troy landing on top of Gabriella. They didn't seem to mind, only letting out quiet giggles and chuckles as their mouths momentarily parted.

Troy looked down at Gabriella, allowing them both to catch their breaths. He pushed her bangs from her forehead and looked into her eyes. They were slightly red from when she'd cried earlier, but there was also something there that told him that she wasn't quite ready for them to have sex yet. He couldn't even begin to guess why. But he wasn't going to question her.

"Remember how I said I was joking earlier tonight when I said that I love you?" he murmured.

She quirked an eyebrow. "What about it?"

He leaned down to her ear. "I lied." He lifted his head to look into her eyes. "I don't know how or when it happened. I don't particularly like it considering my relationship history. But I love you, Brie."

Gabriella breathed out deeply as she stroked the hairs at the base of his neck. She'd expected a lot of words to leave Troy's mouth, but those weren't any of them. Before she could think about what she _could_ reply with and what she _shouldn't_ reply with, she had already said, "I love you, too."

* * *

><p><em>Gabriella nodded slowly. "Do you want a fun fact about me?"<em>

_He shrugged, unsure where she was heading, but willing to go there with her. "Sure," he said._

_She held his hand and looked down at the picture in her purse. "If you'd met me twelve, thirteen years ago, you'd be talking to Mrs Gabriella Lewis."_

_Troy frowned. "You were married," he said with realisation._


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: So, today is rather special for me...I just got in to uni (my first choice, too!) I got two Cs and a B and that's all I needed :D I even managed to drag my Literature grade up from a D to a C :D So I'm really happy right now! There's been lots of tears and lots of hugs :D**

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 18<span>

Gabriella was having rather a crappy day. Her left shoe had practically disintegrated on her way to work meaning that she'd had to fix it with staples and tape from Troy's office. She'd been planning on finding a new pair during her lunch break but that hadn't worked out when she had gone to leave for her lunch and Troy had pointed out a hole in her pair of shorts, revealing her unflattering pair of pale blue knickers. So instead of venturing out into Scarborough's town for new shoes, she spent her lunch hour cutting one of Troy's shirts up to tie around her waist so that her underwear wasn't on show for her entire town to see. Troy joked saying that _he_ didn't mind seeing her underwear. But she obviously did.

In the past week, since her confession to Andy, Jamie had discovered their relationship. Perhaps Jamie had figured it out. Perhaps Andy had told him. Troy and Gabriella didn't care much as long as jokes and teasing were kept at a minimum. Still, Jamie had chosen this particular day to open fire and make wisecracks about his brother's relationship. It hadn't exactly lightened her mood, like Jamie probably intended.

She stood in the doorway of the garage, musing about the real, truly terrifying reason that she was in a bad mood. With her mobile balanced between her ear and shoulder, she listened to Sharpay on the other end. Meanwhile, the fingers of her right hand were continuously rubbing the skin of her left wrist. It had been a simple mistake, a slip of the mind. Perhaps she was still feeling the effects of being with Troy the previous evening. But, for the first time in God knows how long, she'd forgotten her bandana.

She tried to reason that it wasn't that big of a deal. At the end of the day, it was a scrap of material she'd had for years. And yet, she knew that deep down, she was downright terrified. Paranoia bubbled beneath the surface. She'd smudged oil, on purpose, in the inside of her left wrist in an attempt to hide the one thing she still had to tell Troy. It was easy for her to say that confessing her addiction was one of the hardest things she ever had to do. But she also knew that nothing would compare to the day when she finally sat Troy down and told him _everything_.

She peeked over her shoulder, grateful to see that Troy seemed too engrossed in a stupid motorbike he was fixing to ever notice the hint of her past that was permanently present on her wrist.

"How could you guys not have _done it_ yet?" Sharpay asked.

Gabriella sighed, feeling like banging her head against a brick wall. "Shar, we're not teenagers anymore. I don't have to tell you everything I do with a guy." As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she knew it was the wrong thing to say to Sharpay Evans.

"Gabi," she whined.

Gabriella smiled weakly to herself. "Seriously. What do the kids call it these days? Making out? All we did was make out for a while. I don't know, I guess I'm not ready."

Sharpay seemed to ponder that for a moment. "You will be. Soon. So what's the real reason you called me?"

She glanced at Troy again. "I need you to go home for me."

"Why?" Sharpay asked slowly.

Gabriella sighed. "I forgot my bandana and I don't want Troy to see. Please, Shar? I can't go home. Jamie's out on lunch and me and Troy have to watch this place. Please?"

"I wish I could," Sharpay muttered. "I have a dress fitting in two minutes and, let me tell you, she's the devil of all Bridezillas."

Gabriella groaned. "Can't you push it back a bit?"

"Did you hear what I just said?" Sharpay exclaimed. "Gabi, just tell him."

"Speaking of Troy," Gabriella murmured, "I'd better go. I'll talk to you later." She hung up and headed back towards the car she'd been fixing. She couldn't help but notice how Troy didn't say anything to her, focussing only on the motorbike he was working on. That was rare. If they were watching the garage, just the two of them, they usually got up to something.

Gabriella could guess why. Although her day had been far from perfect, Troy had also had something on his mind. Through all of his jokes and banter, she sensed a distraction. A distraction that she could only guess was to do with Andy. True, Andy had stopped drinking as much as he was, before an addiction could rear its ugly head, but he wasn't exactly the former, flirtatious guy she remembered meeting.

"Hey, Brie?" Troy called.

Before she straightened up from the bonnet of the Honda, she smudged a bit more oil over her wrist. Anything to mask the revelation of her past. She turned to Troy. "Yeah?"

He frowned as he wiped the seat of the bike down with an old rag. "Andy said that he might be leaving. You know, after graduation."

Of course.

Gabriella turned back to the car in front of her. "Why?"

"If this thing with Steph doesn't end well," he mumbled.

She sighed. "Well, where would he go?"

"Wales," Troy said instantly. "Well, I have to clarify that he never actually said _where_ he was going. Just that he was."

She rolled her eyes. "Then how do you know he's going to Wales?" she snapped. She didn't mean to. The second the words left her mouth in that tone, she wished she could take them back. Troy was only caring for his son. But Gabriella really wasn't in the mood to listen to Troy whine about how worried he was. She knew that a relationship involved compromise; give and take. No matter how crappy you felt, you were there for the other person.

_For better or for worse._

But, in the end, it didn't happen that way. Or, at least, it didn't happen for her. Someone always wanted something that the other didn't. And you don't always get what you want. That's how life works. She knew that better than most.

She folded her arms, still looking away from Troy, and chewed her thumb nail. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Well, if you must know," he mumbled, ignoring her apology, "we went on holiday to Wales once, in a village outside of Cardiff. He said he wanted to go back. Perhaps to visit, perhaps to live. At age 10, he really didn't know. At first, I thought he was joking. I didn't think he actually _would_ go. But he kept asking when we could go again. It would've been easier for him to go to uni down there. But he stayed here for..."

_Me_. The unspoken word hung in the air like smoke.

He sighed. "He's going to go sooner or later, I know. But I don't want him to leave behind the best thing that's ever happened to him. I didn't realise how good Steph was for him until she wasn't around. Brie, what do I do?"

She turned to him. "You let him figure it out," she said slowly. "If he can't figure out that the biggest reason to stay in this shithole of a town is his best friend, he doesn't deserve her."

Troy stared at her in disbelief. "You always say that! Brie, my son is about to lose his best friend and I don't know what to do."

She rolled her eyes. "Troy, he's a grown up. You can't make decisions for him anymore. You just can't, okay? You asked for my opinion and I gave it. If you don't like it, don't ask for it. It's as simple as that, Troy."

"How would _you_ feel?" he sneered, striding towards her. "If your son was heartbroken, blind to how his best friend felt about him, and on the verge of losing her, how would _you_ feel?"

"Me?" she exclaimed in shock. "Me? If that was my son, I'd be thrilled. I'd be over the moon, I'd be freaking ecstatic because she'd damn well be alive."

It was in that moment that the tension between them broke and reality came crashing down for both of them. It was Gabriella's inconsistent use of pronouns that did it. _She_. Her tone of voice, laced with anger and despair; experience. Her eyes glazed over. Not with tears. In fact, in that respect, her eyes were bone dry. But, it was if she was in another place, another time, not seeing Troy, reliving moments with _her_.

The silence hung heavily in the air like wet laundry. You'd think that considering the seriousness of their relationship, after the lengthy conversations, the tears, the breakdowns, the secret pasts dug up like buried treasure, something would've clicked. Troy should've seen an obvious, bright neon light, telling him that, although he was on the brink of losing his son to heartbreak, Gabriella had already been held captive in that torture chamber. The truly horrific, ironic thing about losing a child, no matter the cause, was that the worst part wasn't actually losing your entire world. The truly gut-wrenching, vomit inducing, heartbreaking pain occurred when you walked in halfway through the conversation, knowing that it was already too late to do the one thing you swore you'd always do: protect your own flesh and blood.

Troy was worried that he'd lose his child, but Gabriella had already lost hers.

Gabriella shook her head and focussed her gaze on Troy. "I'm sorry." She rubbed her forehead. "I have to go." She grabbed her bag from the table and then strode out of the garage.

* * *

><p>Troy was twenty years old when he grew up. A lot of people grew up earlier, some later. It was a personal change that depended on what life threw at you. For Troy, he became a father.<p>

For most of his years, he'd lived an easy going life. He'd had average grades, good enough to get him into sixth form and eventually university. He'd had nice clothes, belongings and friends. His parents were supportive but not pushy. He'd had the opportunities and chances to go to parties and hang loose for a time.

_I'm pregnant_, she'd said. She was uninterested in his response, more interested in celebrities' failing marriages in her magazine than in their baby. When he hadn't voiced a response, she continued, _I'm getting an abortion_.

He'd made an instant but conscious choice. It would've been quite easy for him to agree with her. He could've kept the life he'd been living. But, in that instant, he didn't care about having money and nice clothes. He didn't care about being able to go out and get plastered at parties. All he knew was that he wanted that baby in his life. He'd volunteered to change his life to accommodate a life he'd created. He endured crash courses on cooking and how to do laundry, learning how to do things he'd sworn he never would. But none of that truly mattered until he was in the delivery room and the reality of his situation came to life.

When their wives are in labour, and they're scrubbed up in the delivery room, husbands or boyfriends in a normal, loving, committed relationship would hold their significant other's hand. Normal husbands and boyfriends would do anything to take away their other's pain. But Troy never even got a chance. He wanted to take her pain away. He didn't like anyone to be in pain. But she pushed him away. She didn't want anything to do with him. _I don't need your sympathies, Troy. You're not the one pushing a watermelon through a ten centimetre hole, are you?_ To be fair, no man would be able to argue with that. But it was the principle. All he wanted was to support her. And she wouldn't even let him.

She gave one final, large push and he witnessed his very own miracle slip into the world; into the midwife's capable hands. Troy had never been so relieved to hear a baby's cries before. _It's a boy_, she exclaimed, joy lacing her voice. Her eyes were bright and she looked over to give Troy a congratulatory smile. She'd known him maybe an hour and a half, two hours at most. But she already knew that Troy would be an excellent father; no matter his age, no matter lack of experience or money. She could see through the cool exterior to a small little boy, brimming with excitement, with a heart of pure intentions. It was probably from her job and how she saw anxious fathers on a daily basis. But however she did it, she had decided he would be an excellent father.

_Would you like to cut the cord?_ She'd asked, offering him a pair of surgical scissors. He'd stared down at the naked, bloody, wriggling mass of flesh and limbs on a towel. _Can I?_ He'd whispered, not taking his eyes off _his_ son for even a second. The midwife smiled and talked him through how to do it properly.

Once the baby was separated from his mother, he was whisked away by a nurse to clean him up. Troy paced up and down nervously while they cleaned the baby's mother up. He was positive something would go wrong: his son would stop breathing, there would be something wrong with his blood, he would be blind or deaf.

He just wanted his son to be healthy.

His vision blurred with tears as a nurse walked towards him with a tiny bundle wrapped in a blue blanket. The second his son was in his arms, the world stopped spinning. Time stopped ticking because nothing else mattered. He was honestly holding perfection. A tiny mop of blonde hair graced the crown of his son's head. He had ten tiny fingers and ten tiny toes. The little boy wriggled in his father's arms until one of his arms was freed from the confining blanket. Troy smiled to himself as he let his son wrap his tiny fingers around his own large one. The second they touched, the baby's cries and screams mellowed down to become small, hiccup-like mumbles. His eyelids fluttered open, revealing the eyes that Troy saw everyday in the mirror.

Nothing could have prepared Troy for the moment of serenity he felt when he held his son for the first time. He'd tried to prepare himself for the transition between student to father. But the truth was that it was that moment that he'd changed. The laborious learning of household chores meant nothing compared to the change in the way he saw the world.

It was in that moment that Troy learnt that no matter how hard you tried to prepare yourself for change, it always crept up on you.

_Do you have a name?_ The nurse had asked. Not even looking up from his very own miracle, he'd whispered, _Andrew. Andrew Bolton._

* * *

><p>Troy read somewhere that Plato, a Greek philosopher, believed that humans were originally designed as having two heads, four arms, four legs, and two hearts. They were split in half and were to spend the rest of their lives finding the half they parted from. Troy wondered if Plato was right and it was that reason that Troy had closed the garage and wandered down to the beach, despite how it was nowhere near closing time. He hadn't even text Jamie to tell him where he was going. He just...left.<p>

He couldn't explain _why_ he was headed to the beach. Particularly as he was heading to the south bay, near the Spa, a large entertainment complex, the part of the beach furthest from the garage. In his opinion, it was the nicest beach Scarborough had to offer. It wasn't near the road or the arcade. It was peaceful. Sand, sea and sky. That's all there was. Troy had spent a fair amount of time on this particular stretch of beach when Andy and Steph had been little. There had been countless days of sandcastle building, paddling in the sea and standing perilously on rocks with cheap nets, trying to capture life that lived in rock pools. Troy was convinced that it had been these frequent trips that had sparked Steph's obsession with the ocean.

Although Troy hadn't known her very long, he knew that the connection he had with Gabriella ran deeper than any bond he'd had with any other woman. He wondered if he was being drawn to the beach because Gabriella's heart was calling to his own on some wavelength he would never be able to understand. Maybe it was possible that Gabriella had been constantly telling him things, right from the first day they met, without actually saying a thing. Maybe she'd always been talking about her past, who she truly was, and he simply hadn't listened.

Part of him felt relief when he saw a familiar figure sat on one of the large rocks, staring out to see. Another part of him knew that she'd be there. He approached slowly, allowing his trainers to sink into the sand. He climbed up onto the rock that Gabriella was on and sat next to her. At first, he was unsure whether she knew he was there. But, then she put her left hand on his knee and rested her head on his shoulder. Tentatively, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, trying to shield her from the pain he had unknowingly caused her.

The ironic thing was that what they felt for each other meant they would do anything protect the other. However, they both had reasons to be hesitant, to run away before it became too serious. It was probably what had caused them to say things they hadn't meant. They were testing each other, seeing how much they could push before the other snapped.

In the silence that ensued, Gabriella offered Troy one of her earphones. It was only then that he saw that she was listening to her iPod. The other earphone was still in her ear. Troy slowly put it in his ear and heard Billy Joel's soothing, hypnotising voice. It took him only a moment to recognise the song as 'Leningrad'. As soon as he'd recognised the song, he knew that it was this story that had caused her addiction. He didn't know how he knew, just that he did. It was probably from the way she seemed to crave his touch, as if it was keeping her alive.

As they both listened to the beautiful melodies and harmonies, Gabriella used the hem of Troy's shirt to wipe the oil from her left wrist. As it was wiped away, a tattoo peeped through; a patch of permanently inked skin. When the majority of oil and grease was wiped off, Troy saw one word: _Alyssa_. Troy traced the ink with his fingertip. He sought her eyes.

"Was that her name?" he whispered.

She nodded mutely. He knew, he could tell, that she was silent because if she spoke, she would cry. And although he never minded her crying, it was obvious that saying the words aloud was very painful for her.

She reached for her bag and rummaged around until she found her purse. She opened it up, revealing her array of bank and shop loyalty cards. She handed it to Troy and then looked out to sea.

He looked down at her purse, seeing a picture slotted behind the transparent plastic. A little girl, perhaps two years old, was smiling back at him. With a mop of dark curls, chocolate eyes and tanned skin, he was looking straight into the eyes of Gabriella herself. "Was this her?" he asked with a squeeze of her shoulders.

Gabriella nodded slowly. "Do you want a fun fact about me?"

He shrugged, unsure where she was heading, but willing to go there with her. "Sure," he said.

She held his hand and looked down at the picture in her purse. "If you'd met me twelve, thirteen years ago, you'd be talking to Mrs Gabriella Lewis."

Troy frowned. "You were married," he said with realisation.

She nodded slowly. "Yeah. We'd been together for four or five years and we tied the knot straight after we graduated from uni. By the time I was twenty two, I'd given birth to our first, and only, daughter."

"She looks like you, you know," Troy said. He wondered what kind of girl Alyssa had been. Was she fun and quirky or quiet and shy? Was she always centre stage or was she happier in the background? Would she have grown up working beside cars like Gabriella or ran in the opposite direction? Troy would never know for himself, only through what Gabriella told him. But that didn't matter. He knew that Alyssa would have been one of the most wonderful girls in the world because Gabriella was a part of her.

Gabriella gave a small smile. "I know. _Mi niña __hermosa_. **(A/N: My beautiful girl) **She was the missing puzzle piece. I had everything I ever wanted. I loved being pregnant. It was the most amazing feeling in the world. Although, I wasn't impressed that I couldn't fix cars for about six months." She looked at him. "I was a house with legs. I couldn't bend over bonnets or get under cars on a creeper. But it didn't matter because I got Alyssa out of it." She rested her head on his shoulder. "I'd never seen anything so beautiful in my whole life."

Troy kissed her hair. "Even meeting you can't compare to seeing Andy that first day, you know," he admitted.

Gabriella paused and buried her face in Troy's neck. It took him only a moment to feel the dampness caused by her wet, salty tears, as if the ocean itself was crying for her.

"When she was two years old, she was diagnosed with leukaemia," she said. The words rushed out of her mouth, as if they wouldn't have the harsh implications that they did. But Troy heard them, loud and clear.

Troy could never comprehend that. Sure, he was scared of losing Andy to heartbreak and that he'd move away, but how could that compare to losing a child to a battle with a fatal disease? Just thinking about watching Andy suffer meds, treatments and operations made his heart ache.

"Everyone said I was the best mother alive," she said quietly, looking out at the North Sea. She knew from many days of paddling that even in the summer, the iciness pierced your skin like knives. It was the kind of torture you became accustomed to after a few moments; your body heat regulating with the temperature of the sea. But nothing could make you get accustomed to the torture of watching your child suffer.

"But I had to wonder: had I missed an earlier symptom that, if I'd spotted it, she would've lived longer," she muttered. "She would've been about sixteen now. And she missed all of those years because she died when she was four." She gave Troy a weak smile, trying to reassure him that she was alright discussing such a dark part of her life. But they both knew that she wasn't. "She'd been unconscious for days and was getting progressively more unresponsive to treatment every day. I refused flat out to leave the hospital and so did my husband. We sat there, mostly talking about dolls and singing nursery rhymes." She looked down at the picture that was slotted in her purse. "Do you see her there? That's nothing how she looked in the final few days. She'd lost most of her hair, she was thin and she was pale. Basically a ghost of that girl. But, when she was awake, she still managed to smile."

Gabriella looked at her left hand and began rubbing the base of her ring finger, where her wedding band used to be. It had always looked out of place on the background of her dark, callused, oil-stained skin. But, at the time, it had fit so well that it was almost like it was some more skin, a part of her, not the gold that had represented their marriage.

"After Alyssa died, we, me and my husband, weren't talking as much. When we did talk, all we did was argue over the most pathetic things. A month later, he filed for a divorce. By the end of the year, I'd lost everything I'd worked so hard to get. It had taken me years to be able to be called a good wife and a good mother. But it only took a moment for those titles to be stripped away," she said.

Troy held her close to him. This woman had come into his life with a cool exterior, seemingly so sure of herself. And now he knew why. She had been masking how broken she'd once been, hiding the cracks she hadn't been strong enough to cement back together.

"That's why you started drinking," he said. It wasn't a question or an accusation. It was just something he'd figured out about her.

She nodded slowly. "It started with a bottle of whiskey he'd left at our house and then I was drinking all day, every day because it was the only way I could forget that it had ever happened." She paused and wiped her cheeks. "You know, I always hated nice days. _Really_ nice days. With sun and heat and laughter because I knew that sooner or later, something would happen to bring it all crashing down and it was always that much more devastating. It's kind of like life, really. The minute you get comfortable, when you start enjoying yourself, the rug is pulled from under you and you fall flat on your face again."

"Can't you hope that someone's there to pick you up?" he asked.

She shrugged. "At that point in my life, I didn't hope for much other than enough money to buy a bottle of vodka." She paused. "I used to come down here a lot. When I was drinking. I'd be completely drunk, with a bottle of Jack or vodka and just watch the waves. Remember when I talked to you about temptation? How it's like having a voice telling you it's okay to do something when you know it's not?"

Troy rested his cheek against her hair. Her dark curls, partially tamed by her usual bandana, were warm from being exposed to the sun. He rubbed her arm as he listened to her hypnotic, mesmerising voice. Her voice which usually held so much warmth and happiness, a teasing tone, was laden with pain and hurt as she relived memories he knew she'd buried long ago.

"I remember," he said.

"When I sat here, trying so hard to forget everything, I used to get tempted by the sea. I knew it would take just a few minutes to reach the water and just let it take me. I was past the point of caring. I knew it would be quicker than waiting until my liver failed or I poisoned myself to death," she said. Her hand squeezed his knee. He was unsure whether she was giving him support, after all, it wasn't something he was exactly prepared for her to admit to, or whether she was seeking support for her.

"Why didn't you?" he asked.

She sighed. "I don't know. Maybe I believed that I deserved the torture of living a life I didn't want." She inhaled sharply. "The only person on the planet who knows that part is Alex. The less Mum and Dad worry, the better, and same for Addie."

Troy kissed her temple. "I'm glad you told me that. I'm glad you felt that you _could_ tell me that." He paused. "Andy's going out tonight. Do you want to come back to my place?"

She nodded against his neck. "If you want me to."

* * *

><p><em>Steph turned to Andy and folded her arms. "I'm leaving," she muttered.<em>

_He frowned and followed her gaze to her pink flip flops. "Why? Where? I don't get it. I thought the whole point of you staying here was that you didn't want to leave!"_

_She shrugged. "I changed my mind."_


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: Alright, Chapter 21 seems to be going fine but a hiatus is still a possibility :\ This chapter is just Andy and Steph. It has to be here. No Troyella, I'm afraid.**

**Enjoy :)**

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><p><span>Chapter 19<span>

It took Steph two minutes to open the door. She kept telling herself that she was trying not to burn the tea she'd spent hours preparing. But she knew it was a lie. She didn't know why she was nervous. Hell, it was bordering on being scared. She didn't know why she was nervous, considering she knew the person on the other side of the door.

Wiping her hands on a tea towel, she pulled the door of her parents' house open. She offered Andy a weak smile. "Come on in. I'm glad you came."

Andy stepped into the house that was practically his second home. All of his life, he'd known that if there was anywhere in the world he could go when he couldn't go home, it was this house. He turned to her as he raked his fingers through his blonde hair. "How have you been?"

She frowned as she looked up at him. Her green eyes bore into his blue ones. While she was getting ready for this evening, she'd made a promise to herself. She'd promised herself that tonight was about honesty. No more lies and secrets. She was going to be completely open and honest with her best friend. "Do you want the honest truth?"

He shrugged and looked just above her head to see a picture of them both, at five years old, rock pooling at the south bay. "Sure."

"I don't know," she whispered. She turned away, heading towards the kitchen.

For a moment, all he could do was watch the sway of her long, red ponytail. He tilted his head to the side as he trailed his gaze down her back so that he was watching the sway of her slim hips instead.

"It sounds weird," she continued as she pottered around the kitchen. "I mean, who doesn't _know_ how they are? But I've been feeling a lot of different things recently and I've been confused and tired, too. I've just lost track of a lot of things, you know?"

Andy leaned against the doorway and watched her movements around the kitchen. They were easy and fluid. They should be, too. Ever since she could walk, not only was she practically scuba diving, she was also always trying to learn from her mother how to cook. And it paid off. She was one hell of a cook. He could tell, just by inhaling deeply, that she was cooking shepherd's pie. Perhaps it wasn't very practical considering Scarborough's uncharacteristic heat, but he guessed the only reason she had made it was because it was his favourite.

"Are you listening to me?" she exclaimed.

He nodded slowly. "Yeah," he whispered. "Believe me, considering you're actually talking to me for the first time in what feels like weeks, I'm all ears."

"I've said I'm sorry," she muttered as she closed the oven door. She wiped her hands on her tea towel and turned to him, looking across at him with large doe eyes. Fear flashed in her hazel eyes and for a brief moment, he was staring at his six year old best friend who was afraid of the dark.

But then he blinked and he was looking at a fully grown woman who didn't need a night light anymore. How had he missed the transition between annoying kid and beautiful young woman? She was no longer short and curvy, but rather taller and slimmer. Her curves had moved into more flattering places, emphasising her hips and her breasts. She no longer suffered from acne and in the last four or five years, she'd favoured for contact lenses rather than glasses. He wasn't sure why he hadn't seen this change. He'd been blinded by her six year old self that he hadn't seen her as a woman.

Along with this new sight, new feelings stirred within him. It was like the butterfly effect. It started out like a little flutter in his belly, like he often got just before taking a test. But the longer he stared at his best friend, the fiercer it got. It got to the point where he thought he was going to throw up. He'd never felt this way about _any_ woman, let alone his best friend.

He quickly averted his gaze to the floor, hoping that the sickness feelings would pass, but to no avail. He still felt like his insides were on fire. He didn't know why he was feeling this way but, in that moment, made an educated guess. He'd just broken the number one rule he'd made for himself.

_Never fall in love with Steph_.

When he'd become a teenager and realised that girls really weren't poisonous, he'd made that promise to himself that he'd never fall for his best friend. After his first few girlfriends, he'd soon learnt that things got complicated very quickly. They broke up, things got awkward, and it was impossible to stay friends. He _never_ wanted to be in that situation with Steph. At first, it was easy to not fall in love with her. She was sort of pudgy and clumsy and she was very awkward around people. She would stumble over her words a lot and she almost seemed uncertain how to act in public situations. Not to mention how she had an awful habit of unintentionally acting like a know it all. He'd always loved her. But like a sister. Always like a sister.

Until now.

Now, he wanted her for himself. The more he worried about losing her, the more he clung to her for dear life.

She turned away from him to fiddle with some of the dials on the oven. "This won't take long, I promise."

He breathed out slowly, determined to calm his heart rate, trying not to show his nervousness after the revelation he'd just unearthed about himself. He watched as she worked. Sure, her movements were quick and precise with a practiced ease, but he sensed a nervousness about her, as if she was working just to avoid his gaze. "Steph, why don't you just tell me why you wanted me to come here?" he asked. His voice was quiet, barely audible over the clank of dishes and the working oven.

She sighed and braced her hands against the granite counter. "Can't we eat first?"

He frowned and took a hesitant step forward. "Why? Just tell me. What's so bad that you can't tell me?" His smile slipped a little bit and he felt the colour drain from his face. "You're not pregnant. Are you?" he asked. His voice was so quiet, he was unsure if she had heard him. He couldn't seem to voice the question any louder for the fear that it might be true. After the revelation of his uncertain feelings for her, the thought of her being pregnant by some other guy was quite simply terrifying.

She laughed and pushed herself back from the counter. "Pregnant? No. I'm not. I'm not pregnant. I'm not with any guy at all."

He shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. He knew that Steph knew him and he knew as well as she did that he'd got the habit from his father; all Bolton men rubbed the back of their neck when they were nervous. It was something that had been going on in the Bolton family tree longer than anybody cared to remember. By the time Andy was born, the habit was too embedded into the genes for him to be able to stop.

"Then what is it?" he asked, his arm dropping to his side. His eyes pierced hers. Ever since he could remember, her hazel eyes had brimmed with devotion for him. Sure, they annoyed each other to hell and back but, she'd just wanted him to be happy. He'd always known, just by her eyes, that she'd do anything for him. But, now, he didn't recognise them at all. They were dull, out of focus and she kept having to avert her gaze.

She sighed and stepped to the oven to turn it off. She knew it would be a waste of food. But she also knew that Andy wouldn't hang around. She turned to him and folded her arms. "I'm leaving," she muttered.

He frowned and followed her gaze to her pink flip flops. "Why? Where? I don't get it. I thought the whole point of you staying here was that you didn't want to leave!"

She shrugged. "I changed my mind."

He ran a hand through his hair. "Well, where are you going?"

"Edinburgh," she said, finally looking up at him. "All of that joking around and I'm finally doing my Masters degree."

He paused, letting her words sink in. "Why can't you do it here?" he exclaimed.

"They have different species of starfish up there that I really want to write a thesis on," she explained slowly. When he didn't respond, she gave him a look of disbelief. "Just go," she muttered.

"What? Why? Why are you blocking me out?" he demanded.

She didn't flinch. She didn't even blink. Instead, she pushed past him, heading for the living room. She turned to him and sent him a glare that actually terrified him. Never had Andy seen the sheer look of pain and anger grace her face. He could almost see her blood boiling beneath her skin.

She pointed a menacing finger in his direction. "You want to know? You _really _want to know? Andy, I'm not leaving to do my freaking Masters degree. I'm leaving because it hurts too much to stay here. Because the thing is, when it comes down to it, you're either ignorant or you're blind to the fact that I'm completely in love with you. But, because you don't acknowledge it, it hurts too much to stay here." All anger vanished from her voice and she finished in a whisper. "I stayed for you, you know. You stayed, so I stayed. And now I'm doing something for myself."

Andy paused, letting her words sink in. All of these years, he'd seen his best friend. Never had he seen a beautiful woman who was in love with him. But now, here she was. He didn't know what to say. The possible words he could say got tied and tangled in his throat. How had he missed her affection?

Unsure what else to do, he stepped forward and held her upper arms as he kissed her. He could feel her tense at his touch and push at his chest in an attempt to get away from him. Slowly but surely, the longer his lips massaged hers, he could feel her anger dissipate. She relaxed in his arms, melting her body against his, and wound her arms around his neck.

Andy didn't even break the kiss to lift her from the ground so that she could wrap her legs around his waist. He wondered why the hell this beautiful young woman was in love with him, he stumbled up the stairs towards her bedroom.

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><p>A horrible truth dawned on Andy as he lay in bed, an arm around Steph's shoulders. He'd slept with a fair few women. He wasn't a player by any standard. He only slept with women that he was in a relationship with. But, he had been with women. The problem was that Steph, the girl he'd known his whole life, his best friend, was the goddamn best woman he'd ever made love to.<p>

It had been wonderful and slow. Usually, girls were sometimes like satellite navigation systems: they told you where and how to touch them. But Steph had let him rely on instinct. He touched her where he thought he should touch her. All he thought about was her. After all of the history between them, he was worshipping he in a way she deserved.

There were subtle differences between this time and the last. There was a tiny pink scar on her temple from when she hit her head whilst scuba diving a year ago. There was a scar on her waist from when she had her appendix removed when they were eighteen. Her stomach was flatter, her hips were slimmer; her curves more feminine. She was surer of herself, absolutely positive of who she was as a person and as a woman.

He rubbed his forehead as he felt her snuggle into his side, soft breathy sighs slipping between her lips. She'd been asleep for a couple of hours but he hadn't slept a wink. He kept mulling over his new found feelings for Stephanie Cross. It would be so easy for him to just tell her how he wanted her forever when she woke up. But then he thought of all of the girls he'd been with and how things had gotten complicated and how he never saw them again. Perhaps once or twice in the supermarket but never to have lengthy, meaningful conversation or any kind of friendship.

He couldn't stand to see that happen to him and Steph.

Perhaps it was selfish and perhaps it would happen anyway if he did what he thought was best. He was truly stuck between a rock and a hard place. He didn't want to risk getting into a relationship and inevitably messing things up like he usually did. But in order to prevent that happening, he was going to hurt her anyway.

He gently pulled his arm from around her shoulders and slipped out of bed, praying she wouldn't wake up. He silently pulled on his boxers, jeans and shirt and sighed when he looked across at her. He would give anything to call her his forever. But he also knew that sometime down the road, he'd hurt her unintentionally like he always did in relationships. It was better if he hurt her now and she could make her own life in Edinburgh and have a life that didn't involve him. He'd hurt her for too long. It was time for him to let her move on.

He could never be the kind of guy she deserved. So he did what he did best.

He left.

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><p>"<em>Do you remember the first day we met? And I was a really big bastard to you?"<em>

_Gabriella smiled. "I remember. You were a sick, chauvinist pig."_

_Troy chuckled and nodded. "I recall you insulting me in Spanish. When I tried to apologise, you said that 'I'm sorry' are just words and not an apology. I don't know if it counts after everything you've told me, but I really am sorry for the way I acted."_

_She slowly shook her head as her fingertips danced across his cheek, tracing his cheekbone, his jaw, feeling his rough stubble beneath her touch. "You apologised when you didn't run away."_


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: Happy Monday :D In answer to your questions from a few weeks ago, I'm going to the University of Hull but the campus in my town. I'm going to study English Language and Literature. Don't ask me what I'm going to be doing with my degree. I don't know.**

**Anyway, I'm not sure if I'll finish chapter 21 in time :\ If not, I'll post an AN with an update :)**

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><p><span>Chapter 20<span>

Gabriella swirled her orange juice around her glass and watched Troy's movements as he washed the dishes. She'd been quiet ever since they'd come from the beach but Troy didn't seem to mind. He'd worked around her, preparing a chicken salad, whilst making light conversation about nothing in particular. He would touch her arm as he passed or hold her hand whilst they ate. They were simple actions that replaced the comforting words he was afraid to say out loud.

It had been hard for her to relive such a horrific and devastating time in her life. But she'd realised that it didn't matter if Troy couldn't empathise with her. She was relieved that he could now love her knowing exactly who she was. No secrets. What he saw was what he got. And she liked that.

"Troy?" she murmured as she watched him place their crockery back in the cupboards.

He wiped his hands on a dish cloth as he turned to her. He offered her a hesitant smile. She knew that he was unsure what to say. Who wouldn't be? She was just thankful that he hadn't said _It's okay_. "What is it, Brie?"

She sipped her orange juice, keeping her eyes on him. "I don't want you to look at me any differently than you looked at me yesterday." She sipped her drink again, feeling the chilled juice sooth her nerves. She looked away when she felt the prick of tears behind her eyes. "I don't want you to stop loving me because of this."

Troy folded the cloth and set it on the island as he walked around to her. He took her glass out of her hand, setting it on the counter. He smiled softly as he wrapped his fingers around hers and helped her to her feet, all the time giving her comforting, welcoming smiles. His hands rested on her hips, his touch lighter than a feather. He focussed on her eyes as he slid his hands around to slide beneath her shirt, touching her bare back.

He sent her a crooked smile, one that made her remember that Troy was nothing like her ex-husband. She believed that Troy could love her no matter what; he'd always stand by her.

"_Nothing_ can make me stop loving you, Brie," he whispered, kissing her temple. "I love you just like I loved you yesterday. Isn't that all that matters?"

She leant up on her tiptoes and brought him down for a kiss, revelling in the serenity she felt in the protective circle of his arms. For the first time since her daughter's death and her subsequent divorce, Gabriella wasn't worried about things going wrong and causing a relapse. She pulled back and buried her nose into his neck in an attempt to be as close to him as possible. "I love you, too," she whispered. She pulled back to look up at him. "You know when you found out about my addiction?"

He nodded slowly. "Yeah, you'd had a bad day the day before."

She sighed. "That day...It was Alyssa's birthday. I mean, maybe I should've called in sick but I figured if I occupied myself, it wouldn't be as bad."

Troy kissed her hair and then rested his chin on her shoulder. "I'm glad you didn't call in sick. We probably wouldn't be like this if you had."

She muttered an incoherent agreement into his shoulder as she melted into his arms. Just earlier that day, she had confessed to him how quickly something can devastate you; it only takes a moment to have something torn away, something you worked so hard to achieve. But there was something she hadn't told him. It was something she'd almost forced herself to forget. Although it took only a moment to give you a reason to cry and break down, it took even less time to fall in love.

Troy pulled back and slowly tugged the bandana from her hair, letting her curls tumble around her shoulders. Letting the rag of material fall to the floor, he brought her soft curls over her shoulders, framing her face. "Do you remember the first day we met? And I was a really big bastard to you?"

She smiled. "I remember. You were a sick, chauvinist pig."

He chuckled and nodded. "I recall you insulting me in Spanish. When I tried to apologise, you said that 'I'm sorry' are just words and not an apology. I don't know if it counts after everything you've told me, but I really am sorry for the way I acted."

She slowly shook her head as her fingertips danced across his cheek, tracing his cheekbone, his jaw, feeling his rough stubble beneath her touch. "You apologised when you didn't run away."

He held her neck, memorising the spark in her eyes, the curve of her mouth, the way their hearts beat in sync. "Brie, how many times do I have to tell you? I could never run away from you because I'm in love with you and there's nothing that you or I can do about it." He tilted his head towards hers, being pulled towards her like metal towards a magnet, the ocean towards the moon. He pressed a kiss to her lips, finalising his promise to her.

Her fingers dug into his shoulders, afraid that the electricity, the passion, the pure love in his kiss would make her knees give way. For so long, ever since she'd walked into his garage on that first day, she had always felt inferior around him, feeling like all he'd ever see her as was a woman mechanic. But now, as his hands pulled the material of her shirt into his fists, trying contain his evident need for her, she realised he was finally seeing so much more than a mere woman mechanic.

He was seeing her as Gabriella; a woman.

Gabriella pulled back, taking a moment to catch her breath. It wasn't that they had spent a particularly long time kissing. In the rare moments they had spent alone, they had shared kisses that lasted much longer. But the fireworks that had ignited between them like a display the Americans create on the fourth of July, and the sheer electric current rushing through her veins like a bolt of lightning had her heart working overtime, knocking every last logical, rational thought and every atom of oxygen from her body.

It was like she was drunk on something other than alcohol.

Her fingers tugged playful at the short hairs at the base of his neck; her eyes constantly locked on his. She felt her stomach lurch, as if she was finally letting herself go, letting herself fall into him. "Just for the record," she whispered, "I'm in love with you, too."

That was all it took. Troy kissed her again and lifted her off the ground as if she was nothing but a feather. He felt her wrap her legs around his waist, wrapping her body around his as they were a jigsaw puzzle; both had rough and worn edges, both felt incomplete. But when they were together, everything fell into place. He ran his hands from the hem of her shorts to the crook of her knee, feeling the strength there. Despite her love of cars, he could tell that she walked most places.

He stumbled out of the kitchen, heading in the vague direction of his bedroom. All he could think about was the way her body moulded into his, the way her hands felt against his neck, his chest, his shoulders, the way her lips felt against his. She was his. For twenty years, all he'd thought about was Andy. And now he finally someone else to care for.

Troy staggered past the settee, fumbling to a stop when his foot locked on something, preventing him from continuing on his way. He stopped the kiss and looked down to untangle his foot from his son's backpack strap, all the while muttering half-hearted curses about Andy's carelessness. Whilst Troy was not kissing her, focussing on untangling his foot, she turned her attention to his ear, his neck, his shoulder. When he was free, he turned back to her, already craving her addictive kiss, and started stumbling to the bedroom.

He kicked the door shut as an afterthought before they tumbled onto the bed; a sailor's knot of human limbs. He pulled back to look at her, pushing her bangs from her face. "That was a lot more romantic in my head," he confessed.

Gabriella giggled tantalisingly, slipping her hand beneath his shirt to touch his well defined stomach muscles. "Doesn't matter," she whispered breathlessly. "Just make love to me."

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><p><em>Gabriella took a swig from the bottle of whiskey and hiccupped. She erupted into giggles as she fell onto her sofa, clutching the bottle to her chest. She sang along to the loud music, one of her old Billy Joel CDs. She was out of beat, about ten seconds out of sync, and she kept being interrupted by giggles and hiccups.<em>

_This was the way she liked it. When she turned her head, she saw her coffee table, littered with empty cans and glass bottles she had yet to discard of. She also spotted a silver photo frame, capturing a beautiful moment of her daughter's smiling face. Instead of crying, instead of feeling physically sick with grief from the memory of watching her daughter die, she giggled. She turned back to the ceiling, kicking her feet in the air to the beat of Billy Joel's voice._

_Taking another swig of whiskey, she felt the warmth sooth and heat her throat. Nobody understood. Nobody could ever understand what she was possibly going through. But that was okay. Because Jack did. Jack bloody Daniels understood how she felt and he made her forget. That was what she wanted._

_A knocking at the door made her take another gulp of alcohol that she honestly thought she needed. She rose unsteadily to her feet and stumbled through the hallway to the front door, pulling it open. She giggled when she saw Alejandro. He should've been familiar to her. But after a year of no more than flying visits, it was almost like she was looking at a stranger. Through her drunken haze, this thought made her giggle again._

_She leaned against the wall and took another swig of whiskey. "Hey," she slurred. "Alejandro." She sighed. "My dear, dear brother."_

_Alejandro quirked an eyebrow, glancing from his sister's face to the bottle in her hand. "Can I come in?"_

_She nodded clumsily as she turned around and stumbled back through to the lounge. She threw herself back onto her sofa and watched Alejandro slowly survey the scene before him. "Join the party. It's me, Billy and Jack." She hiccupped and held the bottle out for her brother. "Have some?"_

_Alejandro tentatively took the bottle from her and weighed it up in his hand. Turning away from her, he launched it at the opposite wall, pausing to watch the shards of glass fall to the floor and the whiskey stain the white wallpaper and cream carpet._

"_Why'd you do that?" she protested, getting clumsily to her feet. "That," she exclaimed, pointing at Alejandro, "was a waste."_

_Alejandro slowly turned to her and even through all of the alcohol pumping through her veins, she had to sit back down from fear of the sheer anger in his eyes. "A waste?" He spoke slowly, letting the syllables hang in the air between them like the mobiles that Gabriella had bought for Alyssa. "Gabriella," he snapped, "I might as well go out, buy a gun and go ahead and shoot you. I'll end it for you, shall I? That's what you're doing, aren't you? You're drinking yourself into an early grave, I might as well speed it up."_

_Gabriella had to look away from her brother and at the bottles which cluttered up her coffee table. She wanted so desperately to forget everything. It was better when she forgot. But, Alejandro was asking her to live with the pain she'd worked so hard to push away._

_He sat down next to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Gabriella, please listen to me. I'm no expert with livers. You know that I work with kids. But you're not doing your liver any good. You're killing yourself."_

"_Then, let me," she whispered, looking down at her hands._

_Alejandro stood up and walked over to her stereo. "You won't listen to me, maybe you'll listen to one of your heroes." He flicked through the tracks before he sat back down beside her again. He let the slow introduction of _Leningrad _fill the room. "Gabi?"_

_She turned to him at the sound of his voice. He sounded quiet, forlorn. She had a sudden flashback from when they were little, playing with Addie in the house and someone, somehow, broke Maria's favourite vase. Even all these years on, nobody quite knew the details. But when Maria had asked them all what had happened, Alejandro had sounded terrified. Like he had when he just said her name._

"_What?" she muttered._

_He looked across at the opposite wall where he'd thrown the whiskey bottle. "I can never understand what you're going through. And I don't try to understand, either. But you can't throw your life away because of this. You have every reason to be strong and get on with your life."_

_She shook her head and turned away. "Like what?"_

_Alejandro gave a harsh laugh. "Mum, Dad, Addie, Shar, Zeke. Me. Gabi, I was three when Mum and Dad came home with you and even then, I promised myself I'd always protect you. So far, I've done a pretty crap job. Please let me help."_

_Gabriella felt tears roll down her cheeks, staining her shirt. "It hurts so badly, Alex. I miss her so much."_

_Alejandro wrapped her in his arms and let her cry into his shoulder. "I know you do. But you can't live like this. You just can't." He pulled back and wiped her tears away. "I really miss my sister. I don't know why bad things happen to good people but you just have to believe that something good comes from it."_

_She curled into his embrace, letting her salty tears mark his shirt. "I need help, Alex. Please help me."_

Gabriella shuddered awake and after a few moments realised she was in Troy's arms, in his bedroom. She watched his sleeping features as she recalled the events which followed that confession: numerous visits to an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting, endless appointments with therapists and continual checkups with medical personnel for the state of her liver.

"Are you okay?" Troy muttered. His eyes were still shut tight but he tightened his hold on her.

Gabriella thought about the words Alejandro had said that fateful day: _you just have to believe that something good comes from it._ She settled into his arms and closed her eyes. "I'm absolutely fine."

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><p>As consciousness crept over Gabriella, she found that she was surrounded by a comforting warmth. But, more than that, she felt a sense of completion, as if what she and Troy did, the ultimate thing that lovers can do to show the depth of their connection, was always supposed to happen from the very moment they met.<p>

She was acutely aware of eyes on her. Perhaps it was a stray remnant of her dreams, but she curiously cracked one eye open anyway. She tilted her head, peering through her fuzzy vision, blurry with sleep. She found Troy staring at her with an amused smile, one of his arms casually draped around her shoulders.

She immediately shut her eye again and buried her face into his shoulder. "Stop staring at me," she muttered.

Troy chuckled and tightened his hold on her, dropping a kiss to her tousled hair. "Can't help it," he whispered. "You were wonderful."

She draped an arm over his stomach, aching to be as close as physically possible. A sigh escaped her lips, brushing over his skin. "You were wonderful, too."

She finally opened her eyes and let her vision adjust to the darkness. Moonlight filtered through the blinds at the window that were fluttering softly from the night time breeze. She tilted her head to look up at the man who had stumbled into her life, made a bad first impression, listened to the nightmares of her past, and had, at the same time, unwillingly captured her heart. His facial features were illuminated by the milky light of the moon, accentuating the precise slope of his nose, the delicate crows' feet at the corners of his eyes, the sharp line of his jaw. It was as if he was made of liquid marble. She noted how in the soft lighting of his room, she could see tiny flecks of grey in his hair.

She felt him weave their fingers together and looked down to see their interlocked resting on his stomach. Considering Gabriella's naturally darkly tanned skin tone compared with his pale complexion, it would seem easy to distinguish between her fingers and his. But for Gabriella, at some point during the night, it became impossible for her to see where her skin ended and his began.

Shifting her eyes slightly, she spotted Troy's scars. They scattered his chest, shoulders and neck. They were all fairly small, probably unnoticeable except that she had just spent the entire night memorising every inch of his body. They were tiny pink marks, some longer and darker than others. But they were there. And she loved every one of them. She didn't know where they came from; she hadn't asked. Although, she suspected that Troy had seen the question in her eyes.

"It was a car crash," he murmured, looking out towards the window. "I was in a car crash when I was seventeen. The windscreen shattered and the majority of the glass fell on me. But, that's not important now."

She smiled softly up at him in the soft light. His eyes were smoky and dark, like the day he'd explained who and where Andy's mother was. She could tell that whatever had happened that day, whatever had caused the car accident, was difficult for him. And she wasn't about to ruin a really beautiful night by pressing on the subject matter.

"And what is important?" she murmured.

"You," he whispered. "Considering my choice of women in the past, and subsequent reason why I should never be with a woman ever again..."

"And your bromance," she mumbled as if it was a serious contribution to the conversation.

He frowned at her. "I'm not gay."

She giggled tantalisingly as she reached up to stroke his cheek. "Believe me, after your performance last night, I'm convinced that you're most definitely _not_ gay."

"I've been trying to tell you," he murmured, kissing her palm. "But considering every reason I had to not fall in love...you had to come and make me fall in love with you."

"You make it sound like I actually did it on purpose," she observed. "Like I chose to do it. Believe me, I didn't. I mean, I get no perks from it, like we said, because Jamie and Andy would get jealous. The only thing I get out of falling in love with my boss..." she paused to look up into his eyes, "is you."

"Is that enough?" he whispered.

She sighed softly as she ran her hand over his chest, feeling his muscles twitch beneath her touch. "It's more than enough."

They lay in silence for a moment, savouring the peace that they felt. "Thanks for the Spanish lesson last night, by the way."

Gabriella frowned and tilted her head to look at him. "What are you talking about?"

Troy laughed to himself. "Brie, you were speaking Spanish the entire time. I didn't have a clue what you were saying!"

She twisted to bury her blush into his shoulder. "Oh my God. That's so embarrassing."

Troy smiled to himself. "Hey, it just made you way sexier."

She sighed and turned to look at him. "You should know that I don't speak Spanish with every guy I sleep with."

He quirked an eyebrow and seemed to ponder that for a moment. "Is it good when you do?"

She smiled and reached across to touch his cheek. "It's very good when I speak Spanish," she whispered.

Troy mirrored her smile and leaned down to kiss her.

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><p><em>Gabriella rested her hand on Troy's arm. "How's Steph?" she asked politely.<em>

_Andy's eyes darkened. "Never, and I mean never, say that name to me ever again," he hissed. He threw the rest of his coffee down the sink and left his mug on the counter. With a final dark look at Troy and Gabriella, he stalked over towards his bedroom._

_Troy instantly got to his feet and followed his son. "Andrew Bolton, you come back here and apologise to Gabriella," he yelled._


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N: Happy Monday. Wow. I got it done. Who knew that would happen? There's no preview, sadly. I only have 327 words for Chapter 22 (so next week's update may not happen. Who knows?)**

**Anyway, I have some REALLY (as in really, _really, REALLY_) exciting news. A few months ago, my mum suggested that I enter this poetry competition. So I submitted three different poems, not sure if it had worked as I hadn't received a confirmation letter or anything. Anyway, last week, I received a letter from the company to say that a poem of mine was shortlisted and, although it didn't win, they wanted to put it in another book they're working on. My poem's getting published. Sure, it's not a novel but if people buy this book, they're reading my name.**

**My name.**

**Anyway, enjoy :)**

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><p><span>Chapter 21<span>

As soon as Steph was awake, she knew she was alone. After the night that she and Andy had spent together, she'd known this would be the outcome. That's just how things worked for her. She didn't know what had possessed Andy to sleep with her, all she'd known is that it had been the best night of her life.

She opened her eyes and could help the tears that spilled onto her cheeks when she touched the pillow where he had rested his head. Maybe they weren't ever supposed to be together. Whenever they tried, someone always ran away. She didn't know why. She saw people do it all the time: go from best friends to boyfriend and girlfriend. For some reason, she and Andy just couldn't do it. It was perhaps an automatic reaction to compare this to their first time.

Their first time had been rushed and awkward and she had woken up the following morning with numerous bruises on her arms and legs. Then again, what can you expect from losing your virginity in the back of a pickup truck?

But this time hadn't been much different, although she hopefully didn't have many bruises as a result. They'd still rushed and there had been fumbling and awkwardness. What can you expect from sleeping with your best friend?

Steph groaned when she heard her phone ring. She reached for the handset and flipped it open, holding it to her ear. "Hello?" she whispered.

"_Steph!_" The voice of Steph's girl best friend, Terri, rang in her ear. "_A bunch of us are going out for a dive. You're coming with us, right?_"

"I don't know," Steph muttered. She kept staring at his pillow, where he'd rested his head. Although starfish were her world and she loved going diving to see them, she wasn't sure even they could make her feel better. There's only so many times you can watch someone walk away.

"_What's wrong?_" Terri asked quietly. They'd met in fresher's week. And during those past three years, Steph had never declined an opportunity to watch the starfish she loved so dearly.

Steph couldn't help the tears that fell at her friend's caring tone. "I'm becoming a nun. Or a lesbian. Or a hermit. Anything so I don't have to deal with shithead guys all the time."

Despite Steph's obviously devastating situation, Terri let out a ring of laughter. "_Now, let's not do anything drastic. I'm the one who bats for the other side. You stay straight, just the way you are._"

Steph managed to crack a small smile but it disappeared just as quickly as it had come. "But guys are such dicks!" she exclaimed angrily.

Terri laughed at that comment. "Why _do you think God gave them that particular appendage?_"

Steph shook her head to herself at her friend's devil-may-care attitude. "Terri, I'm serious. I can't do it anymore."

Terri sighed softly. "_I know it doesn't make it any easier but maybe this is what you need. Steph, I love you like a sister and I'd do anything for you. You've been pining away for that guy for like four years. If you go to Edinburgh and study those starfish, you're thinking about yourself. It's what you need to do._"

Steph rubbed her eyes. "I know," she muttered. "So diving. What time are we all meeting?"

* * *

><p>Upon waking up, Gabriella was welcomed by the tempting scents of bacon, sausages and eggs. She felt the warm sheets sooth her tired body and the slight breeze from the open window gave her a whiff of the ocean air. She opened her eyes and looked across at the side of the bed where Troy had slept. He was gone.<p>

Assuming that it was him cooking that produced the tempting smells, she slid out of bed and pulled Troy's discarded shirt over her head. Padding out of the bedroom, she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. Once her vision cleared, she saw Troy pottering around the kitchen, creating a terribly unhealthy, but undoubtedly delicious breakfast. He was in just a pair of boxers and she couldn't help the flashbacks of the night before. They'd been like a couple of teenagers, with awkward fumbling and giggles through the night.

She walked up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her cheek to his back. "Morning," she murmured.

Troy smiled to himself and turned the oven down a little before he turned in her arms and welcomed her with a kiss. He moaned against her as he wrapped her in his arms and pulled back to look in her eyes. "Good morning, Miss Montez."

Gabriella blushed and hid her face in his chest. "Morning," she muttered.

"What are you doing awake?" he asked softly, stroking her hair. "I was going to make you breakfast in bed."

She lifted her head and sent him a warm smile. "Well, I woke up and missed you."

Troy brushed her tousled hair from her face. "I must have made a lasting impression from last night," he murmured.

Gabriella giggled and patted his chest. "Let's not ruin the whole thing by getting an ego." She moved away from him to the cupboard and fridge to pour herself some orange juice. She glanced over at Troy and watched his movements. "How did you guess that I don't like cornflakes?"

She could tell he was smiling as he dished up a large plate of sausages, bacon and eggs. "Lucky guess?" he offered as he turned around to place the mountain of fatty and greasy food on the island counter. He took a seat and reached for Gabriella, pulling her onto his lap. He looked into her eyes and brushed her hair from her face. He'd spent the entire night studying her body, tracing her skin, memorising her curves. And still, he couldn't quite believe that she was so beautiful and that she was all his.

He chuckled and shook his head. "Brie, I've witnessed you eat a BLT sandwich, a large bag of Doritos and a jam doughnut for lunch. I didn't think your weight was one of your priorities."

She blushed and jokingly hit the back of his head. "Give me a break. I grew up with an older brother and a best friend who always volunteered me as the taste tester."

Troy brought her in for a kiss and grinned against her lips. He moaned lowly, feeling her fingertips trace his chest, his shoulders, his arms. When the separated and Gabriella rested her chin on his shoulder, he held her tightly in his arms. He remembered holding Andy for that first time, feeling that indescribable peace with the world. He'd thought that that feeling would only reappear if he ever had more children. And that had always been a big 'if' considering his rocky relationship. But as he kissed Gabriella, feeling her fingers tracing his muscles, he felt, he _knew_, that everything was okay.

Troy broke the kiss at the sound of a key in the lock. He pushed Gabriella away so that she was hidden behind him, trying to save her dignity. He turned to the door just as Andy strolled in. He smiled widely at his son. "Hey, Andy."

Andy quirked an eyebrow as he kicked the door shut. "Hi." He frowned at Gabriella and the way that Troy was trying to hide her. "Don't look at me like that, Dad."

Troy frowned. "Look at you like what?"

Andy rolled his eyes as he sauntered into the kitchen to pour himself some coffee. "You're looking at me as if you're praying that I haven't figured out what happened last night." He turned to face Troy and Gabriella and gave a rueful smile. "In what universe did I not know that Gabriella would be here this morning?"

Troy glanced back at Gabriella. "So you knew?"

"I knew this would happen about a day after you met," he muttered.

Gabriella rested her hand on Troy's arm. "How's Steph?" she asked politely.

Andy's eyes darkened. "Never, and I mean _never_, say that name to me ever again," he hissed. He threw the rest of his coffee down the sink and left his mug on the counter. With a final dark look at Troy and Gabriella, he stalked over towards his bedroom.

Troy instantly got to his feet and followed his son. "Andrew Bolton, you come back here and apologise to Gabriella," he yelled. He watched as Andy turned to him. "Apologise. Now. I don't care how old you are, you're my son and I'm not going to just sit back and watch you talk to Gabriella or anybody else that way. Now, apologise!"

Andy reluctantly looked at Gabriella and shrugged. "Sorry," he muttered before stepping into his room and slamming the door.

Troy hammered on the door. "Andrew, come out and apologise properly!"

Gabriella padded over and placed her hand on his chest. "Don't. It's okay."

Troy sighed as he wrapped an arm around her. "I don't want him speaking to you like that."

"I don't want you ruining this by yelling. Can't we just be with each other?" she murmured.

Troy smiled and nodded. "Of course."

* * *

><p>While Troy was putting the dried crockery away, Andy trudged out of his bedroom and headed towards the fridge. "And the caveman emerges to scrounge for food," Troy joked, attempting to make his son smile.<p>

Andy took the milk out of the fridge and took a swig from the bottle. Troy couldn't be sure but he suspected that Andy only did it to hide a brief smile. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and sighed. "Dad?"

Troy quirked an eyebrow. "He speaks in a civil tone?"

Andy shrugged. "I guess I deserve that. Where's Gabriella?"

"Shower. Any reason?" Troy asked.

Andy busied himself with putting the milk away and getting an apple that was breakfast, for him. "I want to apologise," he whispered. "I want to talk to her. With how I've been acting, I haven't had chance to talk to her, you know?"

Troy gave his son a small smile. "You don't have to."

Andy frowned. "Hey! My dad's finally found a woman he may settle down with, no matter what I've screwed up, no matter what crap I'm going through, it's not a valid excuse for how I spoke to you both earlier." He paused. "Besides, I know that if I don't rattle this speech off, I won't live to see graduation."

Troy smiled. "Can I give you some advice about women?"

Andy shrugged. "The way it's going, I'm all ears."

Troy looked into his son's eyes. "I don't know what happened last night and I don't really want to know, if I'm honest. But, you and Steph? Come on. I know you. Whatever's happened will be okay. Do you remember those lame ass Disney fairytales you used to watch?"

Andy laughed and nodded. "Oh yeah. Cheesiest things in the world."

"But didn't they teach you anything? I'll be first to admit that love sucks. I ran away from it for the most of your life. I didn't think it was worth it. But, Andy, don't you see? Of course it's worth it. I mean, me and Brie can't agree on what car is the best or what flavour of crisps is perfect for a crisp sandwich. But we know each other and we love each other." Troy paused, tapping his fingers against the counter. "You and Steph have known each other a really long time and I wouldn't throw it away, no matter what you've done."

"She'll never forgive me," Andy muttered.

Troy laughed. "Of course not! She's a woman. She'll forgive you. Maybe when you guys are eighty and living in an old retirement home."

Andy gave a small smile. "Probably." He paused. "Do you think we can still be together?"

Troy nodded. "Oh yeah. You'll both figure it out and she'll be mad and she'll yell but you'll both be fine, I promise."

Before Andy could respond, Gabriella emerged from the bathroom in a t-shirt and some shorts, towel drying her hair. She paused, mid-step and frowned. "What are you staring at?"

Troy smiled and shook his head. "Nothing. It's fine. I'm going to go for a shower. The wet towels can just go in the washing machine." He walked over to press a kiss to her lips. "I won't be too long."

Gabriella got rid of her wet towels and proceeded to make herself a cup of coffee. She was quiet, not saying a word for her fear of Andy's reaction.

"Gabriella?" Andy murmured.

Gabriella slowly turned to him and sighed. "What?"

He shifted his eyes. "I guess I deserve that. I just want to apologise for how I spoke to you earlier. And, no, I'm not saying this because Dad forced me to. I mean it. I just...I've been so angry and frustrated recently, I kind of forgot myself."

Gabriella smiled kindly as she sipped her coffee. "Happens to the best of us. Why do you think I have my addiction?"

Andy seemed to contemplate that as he turned an apple over in his hands. "Can I talk to you?"

Gabriella hesitated for a moment before she sat opposite him. "What about?"

Andy frowned. "I don't know. Are you and Dad serious about each other?"

Gabriella smiled and nodded. "Yeah. We are. We love each other."

"But how do you know?" Andy asked.

Gabriella paused. "How do we know that we love each other?"

The younger man sighed. "No. How do you know it'll work out?"

"We don't," she whispered. "Andy, no one knows what'll happen ten years down the line. I mean, your father and I both have reasons to run away but you can't think like that. You just can't."

Andy rubbed his eyes. "I thought you just know that someone's the one for you."

Gabriella sipped her coffee. "People change, Andy. What you think now isn't necessarily what you'll think in five years time. But you just go with it." She paused. "I was married. We were young and in love and I thought he was the best thing since sliced bread. Then our lives changed, we became different people, we never talked, we only fought. And it wasn't meant to be." She shrugged. "It happens."

Andy frowned. "I messed up. I've hurt her and we don't have a chance anymore."

"From a woman's point of view, you need to talk to her," Gabriella murmured. "If there's one thing I've learnt from my marriage, it's that not talking can be just as destructive as fighting. Capiche?"

Andy nodded. "I get it. I'll talk to her. Later. But I will."

Troy emerged from the bathroom with a towel tied around his waist. "Hey. Is everything okay?"

Andy slid off the island stool and nodded. "Everything's fine. I'm just going to take a shower."

Once Andy had disappeared into the bathroom, Troy approached Gabriella, resting a hand on her shoulder. "So, once I'm dressed, I have a surprise for you?"

Gabriella quirked an eyebrow. "What kind of surprise?"

He shrugged. "Just a surprise."

"What about work?" she exclaimed.

He laughed. "We're not going to work today."

She looked over her shoulder at him. "Who are you and what have you done with my boss?"

He gave her a sarcastic smile as he leaned in and kissed her. "What would you rather? Working all day after the amazing night we shared together? Or you can enjoy my surprise which will make you fall even more in love with me?"

"What about the third option?" she murmured, sipping her coffee.

"What third option?" Troy muttered.

"Listen to you get an ego," she exclaimed.

Troy laughed and kissed her cheek. "You'll love me for this. I promise."


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N: I am so, so, so sorry for the delay. I tried to finish this for Monday but I couldn't do it. Besides, Monday was a really bad day for me. To cut a long story short, a friend of mine and me got into a fight. She said I was a liar, I was selfish and that everything's my fault. She won't listen to anything I say. She kept saying that my lies hurt her. But, she couldn't comprehend that her accusations hurt me even more.**

**Ironic. these past few weeks have been insane. I finally have reasons to be happy and to be proud of myself with uni and my poem and all. And now, I can't stop crying because I'm the shittest person on the planet, apparently.**

**So, for numerous reasons (me being a shit person, me starting uni etc.) this story is officially on hiatus. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.**

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><p><span>Chapter 22<span>

"Since when have you owned a motorbike?" Gabriella exclaimed. Troy was standing in front of her, next to a rather beat up Honda Shadow motorbike, looking ridiculously proud of himself.

He brought a rag out from his back pocket and wiped the seat down. "I got it when I was eighteen, before I managed to get a girl pregnant. Someone brought it to my dad and it was going to get scrapped, my dad had given up hope. But, I bought it off him for five quid and I spent years trying to fix it up." He paused, rapping the rag around his fingers. "Of course, juggling a degree, job and parental duties left this collecting dust most of the time. It was only when Andy hit puberty and he never wanted to be around me that I found time to work on it."

Gabriella opened her mouth to say something but must've thought better of it. She cocked her head to the side and frowned. "Is this my surprise? Troy, I can't drive a motorbike."

He chuckled as he tucked the rag back into his pocket. "I know. This is how we're getting to your surprise."

"Can't we take your truck?" she asked dubiously.

Troy frowned. "I thought you said that it's a death trap?"

"It is. But, Troy, come on. Look at that thing," she exclaimed, gesturing to the bike.

Troy frowned, looking incredibly hurt. It was as if he was a child being told there was no such thing as Santa Claus. "Brie," he whispered. "Don't talk about Emily that way. She can hear you."

She quirked an eyebrow. "Emily? You named your bike?"

He shrugged. "Yeah. Don't worry, I'm not cheating on you with her."

"Oh, believe me, I'm not worried," she muttered. She folded her arm and looked across at him. "So when you're on the bike, driving around town, you're...riding Emily?" Her mouth quirked up in a smile.

Troy frowned. "Weird. When I was eighteen, my friends didn't pick up on that. How did you think of it?"

Gabriella shrugged. "I blame having a brother. I blame Alejandro's presence in my life for most things."

Troy smiled. "So, back on track. Do you want your surprise or not?"

Gabriella looked unconvinced and began tying her hair up in her bandana. "This death trap is only way to get to my surprise?"

Troy shrugged. "Do you want it or not?"

Gabriella gave a relenting sigh. "Fine." She pointed a warning finger at him. "But you should know that, including the time I stood on your office chair to rescue you from Mr Eight Legs, this'll be the second time I'm risking my life for you."

Troy grinned and brought her into his arms. "Oh, Brie, trust me. It's worth it." He kissed her softly before he let go and straddled the bike. "Are you coming or not?"

Gabriella slowly straddled the bike behind Troy and wrapped her arms around his waist. "But what about helmets?" she asked, frowning.

Troy laughed as he revved the engine. "Oh, Brie, it's much more fun without them."

Without waiting for a response, he set off and navigated them both out of town, weaving in and out of cars. Gabriella's ponytail whipped around her shoulders as the wind rushed past her ears. She peered around Troy's shoulder, seeing her town turn into a blur of colours and lines. She couldn't figure out which direction Troy was heading but she assumed he was heading out of town.

She held on to him tighter, feeling adrenaline pump her blood faster through her veins. After the wonderful night they'd spent together, there was something oddly intimate about riding a motorcycle together. Watching Troy expertly weave the Shadow between lorries and cars, feeling his back pressed against her chest, made her unafraid. She was completely mesmerised by the fluid movements of his hands, making him navigate the roads and the traffic.

She watched the scenery slowly change from the cramped and busy town to the small houses and a few shops that made up Cayton village. She briefly wondered where he was taking her and what her big surprise was. But then she was back in the present, feeling the wind tug at her hair and sting her eyes, although she refused to miss even a second of the scenery passing her by.

She briefly recognised a sign welcoming them into Filey and, all too soon, Troy was slowing down as he entered the lane leading up to Filey's country park. It was a large, grassy expanse on top of the cliffs. Gabriella remembered coming here with Alyssa. Later, she came here with Alejandro or Maria and Greg, trying to keep her sobriety.

She was brought from her memories, good and bad, as she focussed on how Troy followed the lane along, finally coming to a stop on some grass, away from the other cars, caravans and families.

When she was sure that the bike was stationary, she loosened her grip on Troy's waist and all but slid from the seat of the Shadow to fall in a crumpled heap on the grass. The adrenaline rush, the excitement, the fear all had her limbs turning to jelly and she lacked the ability to support her body into a vertical position. From her place on the floor, she watched Troy turn off the engine and kick the bike stand into place before he climbed down to sit next to her, smiling in amusement.

"Pretty crazy, huh?" he asked, grinning down at her.

She couldn't help the giggle escape her lips and she had to cover her face with her hands to hide her rosy cheeks. She didn't know why she was blushing but she honestly didn't care. She moved her hands from her face and smiled at Troy. "You're telling me. That was insane. Why don't you do it everyday?"

He shrugged. "Oh, I don't know. I have a garage to run, a moody adult son and a girlfriend to contend with. Pretending to be a boy racer is hardly one of my priorities."

She frowned. "I'm glad your girlfriend made your list of priorities."

Troy chuckled as he began shredding blades of grass in his lap. "Besides, Emily's temperamental. She throws a tantrum when you ride her too far."

"I certainly hope you're not insinuating a similarity with me," she joked, quirking an eyebrow as she got into a sitting position.

Troy leaned over to kiss her. "Never," he whispered.

Gabriella looked around them. "So where's my surprise?"

Troy consulted his watch. "It'll be here in about ten minutes, maybe?"

Gabriella paused. "Okay then."

"You sound disappointed," he observed.

She shrugged. "I want to know what it is. Will I like it?"

Troy nodded slowly. "You'll love it, I promise." He paused and reached for her hand. "Tell me about Addie."

Gabriella frowned. "You're kidding, right?" She lowered her voice to a whisper. "We make love last night, you bring me here and you want to talk about my sister?"

He shrugged. "The only thing you've told me about her is that she's a medic in the navy. Tell me about her."

She sighed but relented. "Well, she's three years younger than me. She's my best friend. I mean, all three of us, me, Addie and Alex, are close. But I've never been able to cry on Alex's shoulder. That's only because, despite how he's a doctor, he lacks the Florence Nightingale gene. When he helped me with my addiction, he just wanted me to get better. I mean, he listened when I talked but he never said anything back. He didn't know how.

"But Addie? She's a woman so she gets it all. I mean, she can't relate to me losing Alyssa or my divorce or my addiction but she knew when to talk and when to shut the hell up. It's a talent which the Y chromosome evidently lacks," she teased.

Troy chuckled. "That is a talent reserved for men."

"I mean, we fight. When we were teenagers, there were daily arguments about how she borrowed my CD without asking or how I'd worn her shirt without permission. But, through everything, she's one of the few people who still see Gabriella and not a depressed drunk. Which is a miracle in itself, really," she whispered.

"Every day, I wake up, praying that I'm not going to hear her name on the news because I know that the hope of seeing her again keeps me sober. I know I relapsed a few weeks ago, but now, sitting here with you, I'm glad that I'm sober. I don't want her to come home to see me drunk." She paused, looking down at her hands. "I really miss her, Troy. Sometimes, I just wish she was here so we can both curl up on my couch in our pyjamas, watch chick flicks and eat ice cream together like we did when we were teenagers."

"Pick me up at six thirty, _hermana_," a voice called from behind her.

Gabriella froze, her eyes slowly moving up to meet Troy's. His eyes were twinkling in the sunlight. She was afraid to turn around for fear that she had, somehow, imagined it. Addie was still in Afghanistan or Iraq, somewhere in the Far East; Gabriella never knew exactly where her sister was. They had one address for mail and then the people there forwarded it on to where Addie really was. She couldn't be in Scarborough, right? Gabriella counted down the days on her calendar to when Addie was returning. There were still eleven days left.

Still, embracing a surge of optimistic hope, Gabriella slowly turned around, squinting against the sun. Although she was silhouetted against the morning sun, the figure standing four or five feet away was unmistakably Adela Dalia Montez. A small suitcase was resting at her feet, she was attired in her camouflage uniform and her hair was tied up in a bun, a few stray hairs had escaped after her obvious long journey.

Gabriella felt tears leak from her eyes as she scrambled to her feet and launched herself at her sister. They held each other tightly, crying into the other's shoulders. "What the hell are you doing here?" Gabriella asked as they pulled back. "I thought you were still out there for a week?"

"Remember when I gave you all the date of me coming home months ago? I lied," Addie murmured. "I wanted to surprise you all."

"But," Gabriella started as she turned to face Troy as he stood up. "How could you possibly know?"

"She phoned you when you were in the shower," Troy explained, shrugging.

"Yes, I phoned to see if my older sister would pick me up from the airport but Troy suggested that we surprise you," she murmured with a smile. "By the way, Mr Mechanic isn't that bad, is he?"

Gabriella turned to Troy with a soft smile. "This was your idea?"

Troy shrugged. "Well, after last night, I didn't think it was very fair for us to just stroll into work like nothing happened. So, I saw an opportunity and I took it. Thankfully, your sister was willing to play along." He shot a grateful smile in Addie's direction.

Gabriella stood on her tiptoes to kiss him softly as she wrapped her arms around him. "I love you, Troy."

Troy ran his hands up and down her back. "I love you, too, Brie."

"By the way," Addie murmured as Gabriella turned to her, "I want the details of last night."

Gabriella leaned forward and whispered in her sister's ear, "_Ayer por la noche fue increible._" **(A/N: Last night was amazing)**

Troy's face dropped and he stepped forward. "Brie, what did you say? Addie, tell me what she said."

Addie quirked an eyebrow. "Wow. You really don't speak a word of Spanish? _Mierda_. You'll find it hard in our family."

"I know," Troy exclaimed. "I just want to know what she said."

Gabriella giggled and shook her head. "It wasn't anything bad, I promise." She turned to Addie. "Do Mum and Dad know you're home?"

Addie shook her head. "I'm on my way there, now. Is Alex at work today?"

Gabriella shrugged. "I don't think so but I can't say I have a schedule of his shifts taped to my calendar."

Addie laughed. "We both know he'll run out of that hospital when he hears I'm home."

Gabriella frowned. "Addie, how did you get here?"

"I came on the train. And then, Ross gave me a lift here," she explained nonchalantly, gesturing to a blue Ford Fiesta behind her.

"Who's Ross?" Gabriella asked.

"I went to school with him years ago. I can't say we were ever friends but we were in the same area and started talking when we had two seconds to rest and, well, we're what many people would assume to be a couple," she muttered quietly, a light pink gracing her cheeks.

"You're kidding!" Gabriella exclaimed in disbelief.

Addie shrugged. "I really like him and as he had the same leave as me, I thought he could meet everybody, you know?"

Gabriella smiled softly. "I never thought I'd live to see the day where I'm in love with my boss and you may be settling down."

"Gabi, we're nothing serious, we're just going out," Addie protested.

Gabriella pointed a warning finger. "It's a step in the right direction."

* * *

><p>After a convoy journey with Troy and Gabriella on the bike and Addie and Ross following in the Fiesta, the Montez house was a hive of activity. Maria kept bustling about whilst crying with joy, making sure that not a hair on Addie's head was damaged in the least, Greg was eyeing Ross in uncertainty though it was obvious that as long as Addie was safe, in that moment, he'd agree she could date anyone she wanted. As for Troy, he was sat on the couch, getting to know Ross. Well, he didn't have many choices of things to do considering Gabriella had deserted him as soon as they were over the threshold.<p>

Gabriella. Well, she was attempting to get a hold of Alejandro. She was stood in the kitchen doorway, watching her family in amusement, all the while wanting to throttle Alejandro. She hung up the phone again and tried his home phone again. Her dear older brother only had three phone numbers: the hospital, home and his mobile. She'd tried the home phone first but had only heard the incessant ringing before being greeted by the answering machine. Then, she'd tried the hospital, only to be informed that he wasn't on duty at that moment. She'd tried his mobile only for her to hear his voicemail message. Perhaps she should've been worried. But in that moment, she wanted to kill Alejandro for not being contactable in a moment he should've been jumping for joy.

Redialling his home number, she twisted the phone cord around her finger. After a few rings, someone picked up and she heard "Hello?" greet her. She recognised the voice as Sarah, her sister-in-law.

"Hey, Sarah," Gabriella greeted. She rolled her eyes as, upon recognising the voice, Katie began ranting about something or other Alejandro had done to upset her and how he was attempting, and failing, to make it up to her.

After a few minutes of complaints about her brother, the ever-present impatient gene which ran in all of the Montez's reared its ugly head. "Sarah, is Alex there?" she exclaimed, rubbing her eyes. She didn't mean to snap, how was Sarah supposed know that Addie was home? Even Gabriella hadn't known her sister was returning today. But, she couldn't stand to just make small talk when she wanted to tell the whole world that her sister was safe.

After a moment's hesitation, Sarah whispered, "Sure. One sec."

There was silence, rustling, and then she heard his voice. "Gabi, what the hell is it? What did you say to Sarah?"

Gabriella jumped up and down on the spot when she heard her brother's voice. "Alejandro Tiburcio Montez, there is an amazing surprise waiting for you at Mum and Dad's. You better get your ass down here, pronto."

Alejandro sighed. "Gabi, I'm not in the mood. I annoyed Sarah and I promised to take Stefani and Daniel for a picnic."

"I don't care," Gabriella protested, a frown creasing her forehead. She stepped out of the way as Maria squeezed past her. "You know when we were teenagers and I'd put you in a headlock if you didn't do what I wanted? I will walk to your house, get you in that headlock and drag you back here if I have to."

Gabriella watched Troy quirk an eyebrow at Greg, muttering something about 'so violent'. She turned back to the conversation with Alejandro.

She heard him sigh. "But what about Sarah and the kids? They're all geared up for a picnic."

"Bring them over," she explained, much calmer than anything else she'd said in the short conversation.

Alejandro sighed again. "You're really stubborn, do you know that?"

"Hey, you've put up with me my entire life. You can't hate me that much. Now hurry!" she exclaimed. A moment later, she heard the telltale beep that told him he'd hung up. She replaced the phone on the hook and went to sit down next to Troy in the living room. "That complete and utter _hijo de puta_ **(A/N: son of a bitch)**." She looked at troy as he wrapped an arm around her. "That's son of a bitch in Spanish."

Addie laughed. "what did our loving brother do this time? Or not do?"

"He hung up on me," she exclaimed.

"What does that mean?" Troy asked.

"Well," she began slowly, "he's either ignoring me which means he's beyond an idiot or he's coming over here to shut me up."

"That's what he's doing," Greg muttered. "He's been doing it ever since she," he pointed at Gabriella, "was born."

Gabriella laughed to herself. "You get used to my family," she promised Troy.

They all spent the next couple of minutes laughing and joking, getting to know each other. The atmosphere was light and enjoyable, all enjoying the company they had. Until, that is, the front door slammed open, then tell-tale sign of Alejandro's arrival.

"Okay," he yelled in the hallway, making his way to the lounge. "What's this surprise my darling younger sister has for me?" He appeared in the doorway and his face softened when he saw Addie.

She stood up, still dressed in her uniform and she shrugged. "Surprise, _hermano_," she murmured. **(A/N: brother)**

Alejandro immediately embraced his youngest sister, sending an apologetic smile to Gabriella.

After introductions were shared between Alejandro's family, Troy and Ross, Gabriella slipped outside to her parents' back garden. The early afternoon air was clear, the sun was shining down and there was a light ocean breeze. She leant against the back fencing, looking up at the clouds. She recalled how she spent many days in the same spot as a teenager, wishing she could leave. And now, at almost forty, she'd never left. She smiled to herself at the irony.

She felt two arms wrap around her from behind and a moment later, Troy planted a kiss on her cheek. "What's wrong?" he murmured.

She shook her head. "Nothing."

"Then why aren't you inside?" he asked quietly.

"It was kind of crazy in there, I guess. I just needed some air," she muttered.

Troy sighed softly. "Addie's cool, you know."

She smiled to herself. "I do." She paused. "Thank you."

"Brie, don't thank me," he exclaimed.

She twisted out of his arms to face her. "Troy, I'm serious. And don't argue with me." She sighed and held his hands, stepping closer to him. "What you did today...You don't know how much it means to me. Don't tell me that it's nothing because it's not. It's everything. I'm sure you've guessed that I've slept with other men since I divorced my husband and not one of them did something like this. I mean, I know it was just a coincidence that you answered the phone and not me but you made it a surprise and it-"

She had been cut off by Troy who had took his face in his capable hands and kissed her. He pulled back and smiled. "Listen. Just enjoy this. Spend time with your sister. Besides, I'm not going to give you the day off every time we make love."

She rolled her eyes. "Damn. You ruined my plan," she joked.

Gabriella turned her head when she heard a throat clearing. She smiled at Addie. "Hey."

Addie waved slightly and stepped forward. "Am I interrupting something?"

"Absolutely not," Troy replied as he stepped away from Gabriella. "I'll leave you two alone."

"Troy," Gabriella started.

"Hey," he murmured. "I can have you to myself any time I want. I know for a fact that Addie only has a limited time here. Use it wisely, okay?" He dropped a kiss to her lips before he went back inside.

Addie stepped up beside Gabriella. "He seems really amazing."

Gabriella smiled and nodded. "He is."

"What happened? I thought he hated you?" Addie exclaimed.

Gabriella shrugged. "I think he did, too. But, when someone learns your secrets that are like mine, I think they find it hard to hate you."

Addie paused for a moment. "Is he good in bed?"

Gabriella laughed and nodded. "He's amazing, as a matter of fact."

"I'm glad you found him," Addie whispered.

Gabriella smiled. "Me too."

Addie suddenly hugged her older sister. "I missed you so much, Gabi."

Gabriella nodded against Addie's shoulder. "I missed you, too." She pulled back and laughed quietly. "You're staying safe, aren't you?"

Addie laughed. "Of course I am. Remember that bomb the other week? That was miles away. But I know you all too well and knew you'd be running around like headless chickens so I phoned you. Then, I had to get to work. There were so many casualties, you know?"

Gabriella nodded slowly. "I miss you when you're gone. I needed you here, Addie."

Addie sighed. "Gabi, haven't you learnt anything about what we share? When I'm out there, I don't care if anything happens to me."

"Don't talk like that," Gabriella muttered.

"Gabi," her sister replied sternly. "I know the dangers of my job, I'm not stupid. But, I know that if I got hurt, or worse, killed, I know that all of you, Mum, Dad, Alex and you, are always going to love me and carry me in your hearts. Do you get that?" Addie whispered.

Gabriella gave a small smile. "Let's hope it doesn't come down to that. But, sometimes, I just want you here with me." She paused, her eyes turning glossy. "Addie, if I tell you something, do you promise not to tell Mum, Dad or Alex?"

Addie shrugged uncertainly. "I guess. It's been a long time since you said those words. I think the last time you said that was when I caught you smoking in your bedroom."

Gabriella laughed. "I'm serious, though." She looked down at her hands. "A couple of weeks ago, when it was Alyssa's birthday, I relapsed. I couldn't take it, so I got drunk. I don't even remember what happened that night. All I know is that I woke up in Troy's flat because he was nice enough to let me sleep it off, no questions asked. But, I guess I told him the answer, anyway."

Addie hugged her sister again. "It's in the past." He pulled back and wiped her sister's tears. "When I go back out, I'm not going to worry about that anymore and you shouldn't either. I know that no matter what happens here, Troy's going to look after you."

Gabriella looked over to the kitchen window to see Troy and Greg laughing together. "I know," she whispered.


	23. AN

**VERY IMPORTANT A/N:**

**So...the good news is that I made up with my friend. :D I didn't think it would happen but as we humans tend to do, we both said things we didn't mean, we talked it out, apologised, and now we're talking and not fighting. And I want to thank all of you for your support and your really wonderful reviews.**

**So I've kind of lost my mojo with this story. I don't know what happened but I don't think I'm going to finish it. I know, I know, you hate me. But, as I'm starting uni, I think it's time that I start something new. As per usual, I thought up these really great characters I want to write about. The plot is still in the question mark category. So, to apologise for me just giving up, I'm going to give you the concept I've come up with and I'd like you (as you're all so amazing) to give me a hand. Tell me what you want to see in this story, something I've never done before. What you think these characters should do/say etc. What's the first thing that comes to your mind when you read this? As always, any ideas used shall be dedicated to the person who thought it us. As I'm starting uni, my writing schedule will probably be kinda erratic so I'm probably going to wait until it's finished. But you guys know me. I'll probably write six chapters and upload weekly :P**

**So Gabriella is a teacher (probably of 6-7 year old kids). She's probably 31/32. She's really outgoing and crazy and she blames that on working with kids. she does all of these extreme sports like rock climbing, abseiling etc. But she's terrified of water and can't swim. She usually has loads of animals (cat, dog, snake, fish etc.) because her parents are vets. She also has a boyfriend who travels for work a lot and a younger brother.**

**Troy, on the other hand, is a business man who owns hotels and invests in companies and such. He always wears suits and takes most aspects of life seriously. He doesn't like animals much and he complains because Scarborough doesn't have a Starbucks. He's probably 35/36. He has no real family because he has no siblings and his parents died in a fire after he graduated from uni.**

**They meet because Gabriella has a new boy in her class, Mark Bolton. She phones for a parent-teacher meeting because she's worried about Mark's progress. **

**That's what I have so far. Ideas are welcome.**

**And I'm so, so, so sorry for just giving up like this :\**


	24. Chapter 23

**A/N: So...you guys were right. I couldn't just leave it hanging. So back by popular demand, here's chapter 23 :D I'll upload the epilogue (yes, there's an epilogue, too) as soon as it's finished. That'll probably be up by the end of the week (hopefully!)**

**Enjoy :)**

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 23<span>

"Hi," Andy muttered.

Steph folded her arms and rolled her eyes. "You're a freaking huge bastard, do you know that?"

Andy nodded slowly. "Yeah. I do."

Steph shook her head and went to shut the door. "Just go."

Andy put his foot there to prevent the door from closing. "Hear me out."

"No," she protested. She was pushing her shoulder against the door, attempting to force it shut. Of course, she was no match to Andy. "I don't care anymore. I'm over you."

Andy faltered, resting his forehead against the door. "You're lying."

Steph stopped pushing the door and opened the door again. "How do you know?"

"Give me five minutes," Andy whispered. "Five minutes to apologise."

Steph paused. "Five minutes," she said sternly as she opened the door and moved into the lounge without looking back at him.

He followed her through and she finally turned to look at him. "I'm sorry," he murmured.

"For what?" she snapped.

He shrugged. "Everything. Ignoring you these past few years, leaving you alone the other week. I'm sorry for everything."

"Yeah, why did you leave me?" she asked, folding her arms. "Did I miss something that night? Was I so naive that I actually thought that you'd noticed me as _me_ and not your best friend?"

Andy took a deep breath. "I left because I was scared. I was terrified. Steph, I was freaking petrified."

"Scared of what?" she snapped.

"You," he yelled. "I'm terrified of you."

She faltered. "What did I do?"

"You made me fall in love with you. That night you told me you're leaving. I don't know why I noticed on that night but all I know is that I love you and it terrifies me," he whispered.

"Why does it scare you so much? It can't be because of your dad because he's said before that he and your mum were never in love," she exclaimed.

"It's not about my dad. For once in my life, I'm not thinking about him. Steph, when I was thirteen, I realised that girls weren't so bad after all. So I made a rule to myself. I made myself promise that I would never, under any circumstances, fall in love with you," he muttered. "As it was, it was kind of easy at first. I mean, you were kind of clumsy and awkward and a bit of a know-it-all, too."

"Hey," she protested.

"But, then we had the bright idea of losing our virginity to each other in the back seat of my truck," he exclaimed.

"You avoided me for weeks after that time, too," she accused.

"Hey, I'd just lost my virginity to my best friend. At seventeen, getting a girl pregnant was the end of the world," he exclaimed.

"Oh, so you're like your mother? If I had gotten pregnant, you would've run away? My bad. I must've assumed you took after Uncle Troy who actually _wanted_ to raise you on his own," she retorted.

"Steph, that's not what I meant and you know it," he protested.

"Then what the hell did you mean?" she cried.

"If you had gotten pregnant, it would've been okay. Sure, it wasn't part of my plans but I would've stayed by you," he exclaimed. He ran a hand through his hair.

"Why is it that after every time we sleep together, you run away from me?" she whispered.

"I don't know," he admitted. "Well, I guess I do. Both times, for one reason or another, I was scared. This time, I'm scared that I'm going to screw this up."

"Don't you think it's a bit too late for that?" she muttered as she sat down on the sofa, looking at her lap.

He paused for a moment before he sat next to her and tentatively took her hand. "Yeah, I do. But, Steph, I've been with girls before. And every single time, it ended and I never saw her again. I didn't want that to be you and me."

She sighed and crossed one leg over the other. "Andy, how do you that would ever be us? You're not going to know unless we try. Every relationship you have is going to be wrong until you find the one that's right. Besides, it's already gone wrong, hasn't it, really?"

Andy frowned. "Steph, I love you, I do. I can't stop thinking about you. I know it took me a while to realise it but I do love you. That night you told me you're leaving you just looked so beautiful and I don't know how I ever missed you becoming a woman."

"Andy, that's sweet but I'm leaving. I'm not staying and nothing you can say is going to change that," she murmured, a hurt look flashing through her eyes.

He nodded. "I know. I'm not asking you to stay."

"But, you know I don't believe in long distance relationships," she exclaimed.

He nodded again. "I know that, too." He paused, watching her as she looked at their hands. "Which is why I quit my job and I'm going with you." He faltered. "If you'll let me."

She slowly moved her eyes to his. "What?"

He shrugged. "I don't want to let you go. And I'm not going to force you stay. You stayed here for me. Which is amazing. But, now it's my turn. I'm leaving for you."

"You're being serious?" she murmured.

He shrugged. "As a starfish."

She cracked a small smile. "You're not forgiven."

He nodded, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. "I know. Dad said you'll forgive me when we're eighty and living in a nursing home."

"If you're lucky," she whispered. "You're a really big idiot, you know."

He chuckled. "I know." He moved one of his hands to push her hair behind her ear. "Please give me a chance."

"Andy, I can't live my whole life just giving you chances all the time," she whispered.

"Just one," he murmured. "I'll make it up to you. I mean, I'll screw up sometimes but I guess that's because I'm a guy. It's in my genes. Please, Steph."

She finally smiled and nodded. "Okay. One chance. You bette start packing for the end of the summer. I have a flat picked out and everything."

Andy grinned and leaned forward and kissed her. When he pulled back, realisation dawned on his face. "I'm going to have to get a job. A job that isn't at my dad's place. I have to grow up."

Steph touched his cheek. "You'll be fine, I promise."

He leaned in to kiss her again. "It's funny. All of my life, I've wondered who I was going to spend the rest of my life with. And now that I'm here, I realise it could never have been anyone else."

She smiled and squeezed his hand. "Took you long enough."

"Yeah, yeah, I should've noticed you sooner. Hey, where's your mum and dad?" he asked.

She shrugged. "Work?"

"When will they be home?" he persisted.

"Maybe two, three hours?" Realisation suddenly dawned on her face and she broke out in a smile. "Just won't promise you won't run away this time."

He chuckled as he took her in his arms. "You have my word."

* * *

><p>Andy pushed the door open and covered his eyes with his hands. "Are you both decent?"<p>

Troy chuckled. "We're dressed, I promise."

Andy walked into the flat, his hand in Steph's to see Troy and Gabriella sitting together on the settee. Gabriella was sat with her legs spread out, over Troy's lap and they were both nursing cups of coffee. "Is everything okay?"

Troy and Gabriella looked at each other and then nodded. "Everything's fine. Can I assume you guys worked things out?"

Steph blushed and nodded. "I hope you don't mind him coming to Edinburgh with me?"

Gabriella laughed. "We're just glad you both worked things out. We were both really worried about you. But, when you're in Edinburgh, will you come back for the wedding?"

Andy frowned. "What wedding?"

Gabriella held her hand out, showing them both the engagement ring which sat proudly and, in some way, just right on her oil stained finger. She saw Andy meet her eyes and she smiled at him, shrugging.

Celebrations erupted and Troy and Gabriella's coffees lay forgotten on the coffee table. Andy hugged his father as Steph admired Gabriella's ring. After weeks of fighting, arguments and awkwardness, the air was filled with laughter and an easy relaxation which only ever comes with celebrations. Gabriella watched Troy move to the kitchen and pour what she could only assume to be sparkling fruit juice. No alcohol.

Andy placed a hand on her shoulder. "Can I talk to you? It's nothing bad," he added hurriedly.

She smiled and shrugged. "Sure," she replied as they headed to Andy's room.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Troy called over. "Unless you want to catch a fatal disease or anything."

Andy frowned. "My room isn't that bad."

Steph raised her hand. "I have to disagree."

Andy rolled his eyes. "Fine. Dad, we're in your room."

Once inside Troy's room, Gabriella and Andy sat down next to each other on the bed. After a few moments of silence, Gabriella felt the urge to break it. "Is everything okay?"

Andy laughed and nodded. "Everything's great. I mean, Steph's my girlfriend now which is incredible. We're going to be in Edinburgh for a year. She's going to study starfish and I'm going to find a job, hopefully."

"Are you coming back? Not just for the wedding, just generally," she murmured.

He nodded. "We'll be back. I mean, we'll be here for Christmas and Easter. And then after that it really depends what Steph wants to do. For all I know, she's planning to do her doctorate as well. Which is fine, you know?"

"You'd go to the end of the world for her, wouldn't you?" Gabriella whispered.

Andy ran a hand over his face. "Yeah. I would. I mean, when she's done learning about starfish, we'll probably come back here, find a place of our own and stuff."

Gabriella smiled. "You two are going to be together for a really long time."

"I wish I'd figured everything out sooner," he admitted.

"You can't help that. And now you're together and that's all that matters," she assured him. "So what did you want to talk to me about?"

He paused for a moment, twisting his hands together. "Gabi, I've never had a mum before. Not really. I guess the closest I got to a mum is Aunt Kels. And, honestly, she's only mum-like. Does that make sense?"

"I think I'm following," Gabriella muttered, frowning. "But what has this got to do with me?"

"Everything," Andy admitted. "Gabi, you're really good for my dad and I know he's good for you two and I'm hoping that this'll be it. I'm not sure I can cope with any other women wearing just one of my dad's shirts."

Gabriella blushed. "That was one time."

Andy laughed. "It's okay. But the point is, I don't know if you want to and if you don't, that's fine. But I'd really like it if I could call you Mum?"

Gabriella across at him. "You mean that?"

Andy nodded. "Yeah."

"Of course I'll be your mum. I'd love that," she whispered as she hugged him. When they separated, she looked down at her hands. "Andy, there's something you should know about me. It's something your dad knows but he hasn't told anybody and I'm thankful for that. The reason I'm an alcoholic is that when I was married, we had a daughter, Alyssa. She, uh, she was diagnosed with leukaemia and she died not long after her fourth birthday. After that, me and my husband didn't talk, we got divorced and I found comfort in alcohol.

"I sometimes wonder what kind of person she would've been. She was always so happy and she always cheered me up." She looked at Andy. "I hope she would've been like you."

Andy gave a reassuring smile. "And now you won't be able to get rid of us."

Gabriella laughed. "I'm glad. I wouldn't want to."


	25. Epilogue

**A/N: Well, here it is. I finally got here. This story didn't exactly work out how I planned. I planned about seven more chapters but I think it worked out for the better :D This epilogue was a LOT longer than I planned and I think I went a little overboard. I thought I'd broken the habit of fast forwarding into the future but I couldn't help myself.**

**So this epilogue is dedicated to xLeeRamdomx, MrsStCloudxToxBe and juli93. They all believe in me and they all help me whenever I get stuck. So, this is for you :)**

**Enjoy :)**

* * *

><p><span>Epilogue<span>

At seventeen years old, life for Megan Bolton wasn't without worries. First and foremost, she was currently in her last year before she went out into the big, wide world to go to university. Because of her bond with her sister-in-law, Steph, Megan was hoping to study marine biology at Edinburgh University and follow in her footsteps. Of course, that particular university was renowned for being one of the most competitive in the country and she'd been thankful to receive a conditional acceptance from them. Obviously, this meant she was working exceptionally hard to make sure that she got the grades needed for them to accept her unconditionally on results day in the summer.

In addition to her concerns with exams and grades, she worried about her friends. Or, more specifically, she worried about her friends abandoning her. And who could blame her? All through secondary school, she'd been stabbed in the back by the same people for the same reasons. Now, she only had a few close friends, including her niece who was just two years younger than herself and more like a sister, and she was happy with that. But, she'd like a few more friends every now and then.

And, of course, being a teenage girl meant that she worried about boys. She wasn't obsessed like some of the girls at sixth form. They'd never been a priority for her. Instead of choosing a short skirt and a tight top, she was happy in jeans, converse shoes and one of her older brother's baggy shirts that she wore when she was at work. But, she couldn't help caring about what they thought of her.

Upon hearing someone talking to her, Megan took one of her earphones out and turned away from the computer she was working on in the library. "Huh?"

She looked up to see a tall guy, almost six feet, smiling down at her. "Is anyone sitting here?" he gestured to the computer next to hers.

She shook her head. "No, go ahead." She plugged her earphones back in and turned back to her computer where she was doing online research for a chemistry project.

Before she could fully get back into the swing of research, she noticed he'd held his hand out. Once again, she took her earphones out and stared at his hand.

"Sam," he introduced.

She shook his hand. "Megan. It's nice to actually meet you after seven years."

He quirked an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

She wasn't surprised at this response, although a little disappointed. She and Sam had been in at least one class together since they were eleven, in their first year of secondary school. When they'd first met, he'd been kind of short and chubby. But, over the years, she'd witnessed him change from boyish cute to a manly sexiness. With a tall, lean frame with pronounced muscles he flaunted mercilessly, dirty blonde hair which always looked perfectly windswept, and a smile which could make even a woman with a heart of ice swoon, he knew he looked good.

Of course, she was ashamed to think this way.

She rolled her eyes. "We've had classes together since we were eleven. We were always in science together, we had the same tutor for the last two years of secondary school and we had all the same classes last year and you sat next to me for the most part of the year in maths. I assumed, apparently wrongly, that you knew who I was."

Who was she kidding? Of course he didn't know who she was. Her idea of a Friday night is ordering a Chinese takeaway, playing board games with her family and then watch reruns of old sitcoms together. She wasn't exactly a party animal. And although her father would be pleased about that and she was quite happy living that way, it kind of made her, well, invisible.

On the other hand, he had a reputation for going out, getting drunk and flirting with the nearest thing with a vagina. She didn't know if he lived up to that reputation. She pretended not to care. But, deep down, way, way deep down, she knew that she did. And she cared because, in every other respect, he was perfect. He was good looking, he was intelligent, he loved science and he was funny. Well, he'd never told a joke to her, personally, but she'd overheard them and he was pretty funny. The only fly in the ointment was his obnoxious nature, know-it-all tendencies and his questionable reputation.

"Oh," he whispered. "I'm sorry, Meg."

"It's Megan," she muttered, turning back to her computer.

She watched out of the corner of her eye as Sam brought out some books from his bag. "You doing the chemistry project?"

She sighed as she flipped a few pages through her textbook. "I kind of have to if I want to get into the University of Edinburgh for marine biology."

"Huh," he muttered whilst staring at her.

Megan slammed her book shut and threw her hands up in exasperation. "What?" she snapped.

"You want to study fish?" Sam asked quietly.

"I guess so," she whispered.

She continued quietly, just for Sam to say exactly the same thing at the same time. "But I prefer starfish."

Megan stared at him as if she wasn't quite seeing him. "What?"

He shrugged. "I like starfish. I like fish, too, don't get me wrong. I just prefer starfish."

"You're doing marine biology?" she asked slowly.

He nodded. "I'm going to Newcastle."

She swallowed. "Well, good luck with that."

Out of all the career choices, she never would've guessed he was heading for marine biologist. He had promise yet.

She began flipping through her notebooks and noticed Sam was following the movements of her hands. "What now?" she exclaimed.

He frowned. "What's wrong with your fingers?"

She inspected the tips of them. She'd always been a nail biter and her fingertips were hardened with calluses and stained with oil. "Oh, occupational hazard I guess. It's results from my job."

"What do you do?" Sam asked curiously.

"I help out at my parents' garage. It's not much but it helps keep my truck on the road." She shrugged.

Sam frowned. "Wait. So you fix cars?"

She nodded. "It's in the genes, I guess."

"I don't believe you," he said slowly.

She shrugged. "Well, my dad owned a garage pretty much as soon as he was out of uni. Then, my mum went for an interview, got the job and somewhere down the line, I came along."

"Oh, so your mum deals with the business department, right?" Sam asked with realisation.

Megan quirked an eyebrow. "Well, the business and finance department is sorted by my mum and my older brother but all of us fix the cars. It's a family thing, you know?"

Sam paused. "So...women fix cars?"

Megan sighed and shut all of her books before she started saving the work she'd completed on the computer. "Of course not," she said sarcastically. "Me and my mum sit in the corner sewing and cooking while my dad and brother fix cars. Because that's what women do, right?" She stood up and lifted her bag onto her shoulder, cradling her books in her arms. "I bet I could fix a car faster than you could say RAC. Anyway, I have to go. Nice to meet you, Sam. See tomorrow, first period for chemistry."

After meeting up with her friends for cups of coffee in the canteen, Megan began making her way towards the student car park. The beat up truck parked right down the bottom, near the entrance, had belonged to her dad. Everyone was surprised that it had lasted this long. She usually had to fix something on her at least once a week and oil changes were a regular occurrence. But, it got her from A to B.

Whilst keeping a hold of her books, she began digging through her bag for her keys. Of course, it was at that moment that she walked into someone, knocking her and her books to the floor. "_Mierda_," she muttered as she began picking up her books.

"What did you call me?"

Megan looked up and, lo and behold, saw Sam crouched down, her chemistry book in his hand. She briefly wondered why the universe hated her so much as she slowly reached over to take the book from him. "I said shit in Spanish."

They rose to their full heights and it was only then that she noticed that Sam was stood next to a Suzuki Swift that she assumed was his. The bonnet was propped open and smoke was billowing out. She coughed as she inhaled some. "Jeez, what the hell happened?"

He shrugged. "I turned the key and _this _happened. I was about to call breakdown when you bumped into me."

Megan eyed him for a moment. She dropped her bag to the floor and thrust her books into his arms so that she could pull a rag from her back pocket and tie her mass of brunette curls into a ponytail. She stepped forward and waved the smoke away so she could peer inside. After a brief moment, she stepped back and folded her arms. "You have to be kidding me. You can't have been hoping for this hunk of junk to start with _that_ piece of crap that I'll jokingly call a fuel pump."

He frowned. "I didn't know."

She sighed. "Well, you have two choices. You can watch me walk away and fork out a small fortune on breakdown just for them to scrap this piece of metal. _Or_, you can come with me to my dad's garage see if he has a new fuel pump. If he does, I'll drive you back here, fix it in and you can be on your way and I may be nice enough to charge a discounted rate."

"What if your dad doesn't have one?" Sam asked impatiently.

She shrugged. "Then, he'll probably tow you back to the garage until he gets one. It's not going very far at the minute. Again, with a discounted rate, if you're lucky." She reached for her books and pulled her bag back onto her shoulder. "It's your choice."

After a moment's deliberation, Sam relented and soon, he was sat in the passenger seat of Megan's truck. "Is this thing safe?"

She shrugged. "When my mum first met my dad, she asked exactly the same thing. I always cling on to the fact that it hasn't killed anybody yet."

"Yet being the operative word," Sam grumbled as Megan pulled away, heading for town where her parents' garage was located.

After a fairly long silence, she pulled up in the car park behind the workshop. "Don't worry, you lived." She grabbed her bag and books and hopped down. Once Sam was down, she locked it as an afterthought, not convinced for one second that anybody would bother stealing it if she didn't.

"I'm only doing this to save money," Sam exclaimed.

"Sure you are," Megan muttered as she entered the workshop. She tossed her bag and books onto the table and looked around. "Dad? Are you here?"

Troy Bolton strolled out of the back office, his face immediately breaking out into a smile when he saw his daughter. Although he was still handsome, the last eighteen years had taken its toll. His skin was darker, with more wrinkles, his hair greyer. But he was still himself. "Hey, Cupcake."

Megan blushed and glanced at Sam who chuckled to himself. "Dad, I told you not to call me that. But that's not important." She suddenly realised that Sam was standing there, looking kind of awkward. "Oh. Dad, this is Sam. Sam, this is my dad." She walked to the back of the workshop where a big rack of shelves stood. She started rummaging through them, searching for a fuel pump while listening to Troy semi-interrogate Sam.

She walked back over to them and hopped up to sit up on the table. "Dad, do you know if we have a fuel pump? I couldn't check the top shelves."

Troy wandered over to the drawers and started looking through them. "I honestly don't know. Do you know if Andy ordered some in?"

Megan shook her head. "I don't know. I know you asked him to. Did Mama order any?"

"Did Mama order any what?" Gabriella asked as she appeared on a creeper from under the Renault that was in the workshop. She waved a hand in Troy's direction. "Honey!" she called.

Troy hurried over and pulled her to her feet. "You okay?" he asked, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

She nodded. "I'm fine." She approached Megan and Sam. "_Hola, mi hija_." After that sentence, the conversation degenerated into Spanish and Sam looked around helplessly at Troy who was leaning against the bonnet of the Renault.

"You get used to it," he answered the unspoken question. "I've been married to Gabriella for nineteen years and the most I can say in Spanish is _hola_ and when I do say it, she yells at me because I don't pronounce it right." He shrugged. "Like I said: you get used to it."

Gabriella turned to Sam and held her hand out. "Nice to meet you, Sam. I'm Gabriella." She faltered and looked at her grease-covered hand. "On second thoughts, let's take a rain check on that handshake."

"So she was telling the truth?" Sam asked slowly.

"Who was?" Gabriella frowned.

"Megan said both of you fix cars," he said. "I didn't...I mean...I just..."

"Word of advice," Troy piped up, "shut up before you get your other foot in your mouth."

Before Sam could reply, Andy pulled up in his car and got out, approaching all of them. The last nineteen years had given him a wife, three children, a reliable job and the occasional wrinkle and grey hair. Sure, his life hadn't turned out like he'd imagined it would when he was sixteen. He'd never imagined that he'd marry his best friend. But he concluded that life had a funny way of working out for the better. And, he supposed, he was much happier with the life he had than with the life he'd wanted at sixteen.

"Hey, Squirt," he exclaimed as he sat next to Megan, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

Megan elbowed her older brother. "I told you never to call me that," she hissed. Despite the large age gap between them, they were unbelievably close. Andy was teasing and annoying for her but she also knew that he'd take a bullet for her. Regardless of Andy having his own family, he somehow always found time so that they could do things together, just the two of them. Bottom line? They both knew that nothing could force them apart.

Andy laughed. "Hey, now. If I didn't bug you on a daily basis, you'd think there was something wrong with me."

Megan thought that over for a moment. "I'm not even going to escape you when I'm in Edinburgh, am I?"

Andy chuckled to himself but the laugh trailed off as he noticed Sam's presence. "Who's your friend, Meg? A boyfriend?"

"He's just a friend," she whispered. "Andy, this is Sam. Sam, this is by brother, Andy."

Andy reached forward to shake Sam's hand. "Just so you know...I put the last guy that hurt Megan in the hospital. I spent a year in jail."

Megan rolled her eyes. "Ignore him. I do on a daily basis. He can't even swat a fly." She stuck her tongue out at Andy. "Moving on, did you order any fuel pumps in? Sam needs one for his car."

"Sure. Top drawer on the right," he replied.

Megan frowned. "Two things. Number one: how the hell am I going to reach that? Number two: I've told you before, fuel pumps go in the fourth drawer from the top on the left hand side. It took me a week to get those drawers in order and you constantly mess it up."

"You want to watch out, Sam. She suffers from OCD," he said seriously.

"No, I don't," she protested. Then she faltered. "But, if I hypothetically did, it would be because of Mama."

Gabriella, who had moved over to Troy she that he could wrap his arm around her shoulders, gasped. "_Mi hija!_ I don't have OCD."

She shrugged. "You line the cereals in alphabetical order," she muttered. She turned to Andy. "Go and get a fuel pump, please?"

Andy sighed and went over to get a fuel pump for her. "Well, because I'm so nice and all," he replied. He walked back over and tossed the fuel pump to her.

She caught it easily and quirked an eyebrow. "You? Nice? You must be mistaken."

"Of course. I'm confusing myself for your _other_ brother," he muttered sarcastically.

Sam smiled in amusement at Megan. "Don't ask," she muttered. "What can I say? You can't pick your family. And I got stuck with that idiot over there."

Sam chuckled. "Ah, no worries. I have two older sisters and a younger brother. A day doesn't go by without someone trying to kill someone else."

"At least I know you're human," Megan commented. She sighed at his confused look. "Please. Dad's an older brother, Mama's a middle child and Andy. Well, he escaped me for the first twenty years of his life. I've been here ever since."

Sam looked between Megan and Andy. "There's twenty years between you guys?"

"Twenty one to be more precise," Megan explained. "Anyway, I'd best get this to your car. I'll check it over at Sixth Form but from the glance I took of it, you'd best bring it down as soon as possible and one of us will fix it back up for you."

"There's more damage to it?" Sam asked.

She shrugged. "Your oil pan looked as if it was disintegrating before my very eyes. Where did you get the car?"

Sam frowned. "Private dealer. I paid about nine hundred quid."

Megan laughed out loud. "Whoever it was ripped you off. I wouldn't pay a tenner for that heap of junk." She paused. "But, now that you know me, it may last a lot longer than it would have."

Sam nodded slowly. "I always wanted a mechanic as a friend."

"Friend?" Megan asked as she hopped down from the table. She looked as if she was about to protest but then faltered. "Answer me this honestly: Ever been so drunk you've woken up next to a girl and you have no idea who she is or how she got there?"

Sam shook his head. "Never. I've never even set foot in a nightclub."

Megan nodded slowly in approval. "Well. As you like starfish, too, and drink responsibly, we'll see. No promises, though."

Sam quirked the corners of his mouth up into a smile. "Good enough for me."

She headed out towards her truck. "I don't suppose you like old sitcoms, do you?"

"Are you kidding? Me and my family love _Terry and June_. Do you?" he asked curiously.

She nodded slowly. "Yeah. I do. My favourite is _Man About The House_. They don't make sitcoms like that anymore."

"Huh. A girl who is good with cars, is interested in starfish and knows good comedy? Who knew we've had the same classes for seven years?" he asked.

Megan stopped and turned to him. "Me. I knew, Einstein. Just get in the truck and don't talk."

Gabriella settled herself in Troy's arms and looked over as her daughter reversed out of the parking space. Through the windshield, Gabriella saw Megan talking wildly, no doubt explaining why Sam was pissing her off. "They kind of remind me of us," she murmured.

Troy chuckled and nodded, watching Megan drive away back towards Sixth Form. "You're right. They'll be together before they leave for uni. I know they will."

Gabriella smiled. "She'll be the world's first marine biologist slash mechanic."

"And he'll follow her. I can tell. Even if he can't," he commented.

"Dad. Stop. She's my sister. She's not dating anybody. She's going to marry a starfish," Andy exclaimed.

Troy chuckled. "Oh, she'll be fine. I know it."

Gabriella leaned in and kissed her husband, vaguely aware of her adopted son muttering something along the lines of 'I may be thirty eight but that's still too disgusting'. Gabriella and Troy were quickly approaching retirement age but it didn't discourage them. They were still crazy about each other. It made Andy and Megan cringe with how in love they were. But, they didn't care. And Troy and Gabriella knew that deep down, their children preferred that to their parents fighting.

She pulled back and Troy brushed a lock of Gabriella's grey-flecked hair behind her ear. "We didn't do bad bringing Megan up, did we?" she murmured.

Troy chuckled. "Personally? I think we did a pretty great to get this far. Who'd have thought it would happen?"

She smiled. "I think everybody knew but us."


End file.
